Burning Eyes
by glittery toenails
Summary: Bought by Palpatine to be a slave, Anakin spends his whole life in servitude. However, this slave doesn't always agree with his master, and when the Republic falls and the Empire rises Anakin knows he needs to act. With the help of a droid and a Gungan, Anakin tries to subvert the empire from its worst tendencies and has to decide who his real master is: Darth Sidious, or himself.
1. Chapter 1

The boy walked. Scrambling through the streets, he watched the crowds in the city murmur in the dusk of the two suns. The temperature was slowly dropping though it was still unbearable. The heat wouldn't stay, except in the lumpy stucco huts. The slaves would huddle all night as the heat seeped from their hearths and cots until the sun and the heat returned and they had to return to work. They slept, with shivers and aches and moans, through another night in their short lives. A slave's life. He trudged through the alleys, eyeing the people, listening for fights, scurrying home.

On Tatooine, some slaves slept in the outskirts of town. At Jabba's palace farther in the desert, a slave never left the master's house.

He and his mother were no longer Jabba's slaves. Jabba's slaves laughed at the false sense of property when commanded, but any slave with a home of their own was thankful. It was a fraudulent ownership which could be revoked or intruded upon at any time; nonetheless, it was a place away from the masters. Today the boy returned from toiling long hours for Watto, who had bought him and his mother long ago, to be his slaves.

In the slave quarter, filled with huts and occasional motifs scratched into the walls, Shmi, the young boy's mother, bit back a yelp and the curse on her lips as she burned her finger cooking dinner. She and Ani were lifelong slaves, and the pitiful image of her son fettered by Watto and other masters stung her heart. It was more burden than any child should bear. A master's yell outside shocked Shmi and prompted her to return to her work, stir the pot again, and quickly wet the burn.

In another part of the galaxy, a teenage girl looked out over her people who were much livelier than those on Tatooine. She was escaping the celebrations, as she had drunk too much and desired some quiet, so she came outside. She liked standing on this balcony overlooking the city. The breeze, and the soft voices of the people down below and inside, cocooned her with the busyness of life. The balcony was her new favorite place. There were no duties out here: no courtiers could demand attention, no ambassadors would be following her like beggars. Naboo's enemy had been dealt with and they were free once more. She could just be a girl on a balcony, for this night. Not for long, however; she adjusted her posture and tried to smile genially as her advisor came up beside her.

"My queen," said the chancellor, "the celebration is for you."

"And for you, chancellor."

"I suppose they will have to celebrate without us." He cast her a fatherly smile.

In the core of the galaxy, far from the scorching suns of Tatooine or the plains of Naboo, a recently inducted Jedi knight mournfully shuffled the holopads on his bed. More than anything, he wished he could sleep or move. He had approached the Jedi Grandmaster earlier and requested to be sent on a mission. He was lost; he was confused, hurt, and tired. He would be happy to perform whatever mission the Jedi council needed done, as they must have numerous tasks. The Grandmaster had responded with a shake of his head, and that was all that Obi-Wan needed to know that he was to be kept, sleepless and haunted, on Coruscant. He gave his courtesies and retreated. He would leave his grief to the force, but would not pretend to himself that it was easy to let go.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: the second part of this chapter relies heavily on the episode "Children of the Force" Season 2, Episode 3. If you're here and you haven't seen that episode, no worries but you are missing awesome Clone War episodes. Also, if you are here, thanks for coming! Disclaimer: I don't own anything, don't make any money off of this, and you should really watch the episodes.

* * *

He listened in, but was doubtful of the exchange happening before him, the one that was changing his life. The pale man with Watto still stood calmly, but he should have been angered by the Toydarian behind the counter the boy sat upon. Overflowing with patience, the man nodded in consolation, as Watto raged over the ridiculous idea of the sale of his property that he had obtained fairly through a bet. The boy's mother in the adjoining room, which contained piles of junk from various jobs for the residents of Mos Espa and travelers, winced in sympathy with Watto's punctuating exclamations. The man, however, retained his composure and even smiled at the Toydarian mechanic, amused by his ability to expound his outrage.

Yawning sneakily, the boy wriggled on the counter but stopped under the heavy gaze of the customer. Despite a feeble demeanor, the delicate man had a commanding aura about him. Slowly moving, the boy tried to slide down and away, but Watto caught him by his shoulder and presented him to the buyer, forcibly turning the boy towards the man.

"This, eh? For that much?" Watto spat to the side, narrowly missing a newly repaired droid. Waving his hand, Watto said, "You can have his mother for that amount, but not him."

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement." The man's voice, high-pitched and smooth, was not the voice of reason that changed Watto's opinion, but the added money to the pile on the table was.

"Eh-" Watto heavily fluttered in the air, gaze shifting from the boy to the coins. "Fine. You know how to do business, eh?" Swiftly, Watto gathered the coins with a webbed foot while kicking the boy from his perch. "Shmi!"

Roughly shoved off the counter, the boy scrambled to stand up straight next to the man who had come in and bought them, in a single moment, and was guiding them to their hut in the next, Shmi scurrying behind, still carrying a polishing cloth.

There were few things to be gathered. Their droid, C-3PO, gathered himself vocally, as "Oh my," rang from his direction with every pass by that the boy and his mother made. They rushed to pack knickknacks and uncover their hidden savings, barely noting that this would be another home lost on the road.

* * *

"You _will_ take us to the children and the holocron." Mace Windu stretched his arm out to the Duros, burning away all thoughts with this demand from Cad Bane. But it was not enough. Not enough to discover where the force-sensitive children were being hidden, and not enough to find the holocron and put an end to the kidnappings.

Next to him Obi-Wan stepped up and added his power to Mace's. Together, their minds merged in unity of purpose, striving to force Cad Bane to reveal the location but not break his mind.

They were close to breaking him, Mace felt. In both senses.

"Sorry boys," Cad Bane whistled, sounding nonchalant. "Looks like you're not getting what you want after all." His mechanized voice grated on Mace's nerves, as did the prisoner's cheery disposition. Perhaps Cad Bane was not as close to breaking as he thought.

But Mace and Obi-Wan were not alone, and a third master, Plo Koon, joined them in forcing the bounty hunter's mind. Mace felt the barrier within Cad Bane's head begin to weaken and crumble, wavering bit by bit. If they were not careful, the Duros would become a wreck of his current self, more reliant on a machine for life than ever.

It would be what he deserved-the thought flit through Mace's mind. Scum like Cad Bane would do anything for money, and now younglings were endangered because someone was paying for them. Cad Bane, and anyone like him, deserved to die. Behind him, Mace heard Obi-Wan gasp, and paid closer attention to the mind in front of him. In his emotional outburst, Mace had pushed too hard and the Duros's mind was close to shattering. Mace immediately pulled back. The other masters pulled back as well.

"Alright," the Duros groaned, rubbing his head. "Alright. Enough! I'll take you to the holocron."

"And the children?" Obi-Wan interjected. "The children are our first priority." Plo Koon stepped around the two of them, nearing Cad Bane and softly probing his mind for damage.

"The children, too," Cad Bane agreed, turning his head away from Klo Poon. "I don't suppose you'd pay me for this, would you." His red, pupil-less eyes bored into the Jedi.

"If by payment you mean trial, then yes, you are getting paid." Obi-Wan folded his arms. The Duros huffed in response.

Mace narrowed his eyes. Cad Bane was audacious, and he would get his reward. "The Senate will decide your fate."

"Oh, lucky me," the Duros groused, and Mace felt a spike of anger.

"Yes. Lucky you." He turned and strode out of the room, casting over his shoulder, "Shall we begin?"

Cad Bane's sigh and Obi-Wan's "of course" mingled and followed him out of the room.

Once he'd attained sufficient distance from the room, Mace took a moment to compose himself. He knew that Obi-Wan and Klo Poon would take Cad Bane directly to the hangar as soon as he was ready to move. Cad Bane is not worth anger, he reminded himself. Mace was a Jedi master, and would carry himself as such. Cad Bane would not be spared, he would be dealt with. And it was not Mace's duty to judge him. After they had rescued the children, Mace would make sure that Cad Bane stood trial and was rewarded appropriately for his actions. Hopefully, the Senate would see the threat Cad Bane was as clearly as Mace did. He doubted that though.

"Uh, sir?"

Mace looked up. A pair of clones, Ponds and some other clone he did not know, stood by him.

"We need to get into that room, sir."

"I see." He moved away from the doorway.

"Sorry, sir!" the one clone apologized, but Ponds just nodded at him and kept his brother moving.

"We'll see you on deck, sir!" Ponds called back.

"Hm," was his response, and Ponds grinned. Why the clone found that funny, he would never know. But a thought occurred to him, and he said, "Actually, I need you with me, Ponds."

Ponds hesitated, confusion clouding his eyes, but issued another, "Yes sir," before turning to the clone by him and saying, "Carry on, trooper."

As they walked away from the other soldier, Ponds asked, "Where are we off to, sir?"

"I'm not sure. Why? Are you missing anything important?" It was rude of him to change Ponds's schedule like this, but Mace was a general. And he needed back-up.

"Just showing the shiny where his job is." The clone strolled alongside Mace, white armor scuffed and dented, a testament to his ability to survive. "They don't make them like they used to, sir."

"I see." He'd heard that newer clones were more likely to be "defective," as the Kaminoans would say, but it was a surprise to hear such a sentiment from Ponds. Perhaps it was a veteran thing. Mace certainly didn't approve of some of the padawans.

Down in the hangar waiting for them, Obi-Wan elegantly slouched against a ship strut, Plo Koon and the bounty hunter already inside. The surroundings did not suit Obi-Wan, mild-mannered smooth-talker that he was. Mace didn't like their surroundings much, but he knew that he and Ponds belonged here in a way that Obi-Wan never would, encompassed by troops and munitions, born to fight. Obi-Wan's talents lay in a different direction than Mace's, which he was reminded of anytime the younger Jedi spoke.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming." A sardonic smile splayed across Obi-Wan's face. He waved a hand at the ship. "What would Cad Bane say?"

"You'll get to find out." Mace brusquely walked to another nearby transport's ramp, motioning Ponds to get the ship running. "We're splitting up. Have you gotten either location from him already?"

"Yes, apparently the holocron is on some station and the children are on Mustafar." Obi-Wan stroked his mustache a couple times, a nervous tick he'd grown along with the mustache. "Cad Bane seemed quite eager to avoid Mustafar. I don't think it's somewhere one should go alone."

Mace ignored the warning. "I won't be alone, Ponds and I will go to Mustafar while you two retrieve the holocron." Obi-Wan frowned at him, discontent radiating from his body. Mace added, "It will be better to take care of both the children and the holocron simultaneously." Three Jedi masters for one task was a luxury the Jedi high council could not indulge in with this war.

"Well, I suppose you've successfully avoided Cad Bane," Obi-Wan griped, stretching his arms and straightening up to enter his ship, accepting Mace's decision. "I don't mean to overstep, but he gave that information away too easily. I think his accomplice may be with the children. It could be a trap."

"The Jedi impostor?" Mace's emotions burgeoned again, and he took a deliberate breath through his nose to calm himself. This was not his first time encountering a Jedi impostor. They were scum worse than bounty hunters. Obi-Wan had seen this one working with Cad Bane, dressed up as a Jedi and convincing parents that he was taking children to the Jedi temple. "Good."

Obi-Wan cast him a concerned look. "Master Windu, perhaps Master Koon or I should accompany you. Impostor or not, he may be a formidable opponent."

Mace gave a dry chuckle. "Get on the ship, Kenobi." As much as he appreciated the golden boy's concern, Mace did not share it, and he had Ponds with him. "I'll be careful."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ani? Ani, where are you?"

He stayed where he was, trying to ignore his mother's plaintive cry. Once she found out, she would tell their master, and once the master found out-Ani buried his head in his arms. His clothes stuck out here, where everything was orange and green, but he didn't think about that, convinced he was hidden. They were supposed to be getting new clothes soon anyway, something not scratchy and heavy, but Anakin doubted they would now. It was hopeless. He curled up tighter.

"There you are!" Ani looked up to see his mom's lined face for a moment before she gathered him into a hug, her wiry arms pulling him close. "I was so worried!"

They hadn't been on Naboo for long. They were still unused to the strange bird-calls, the droning insects, the rush of leaves in the wind. They were unused to looking without shading their eyes, no tears from harsh light or ever-present sand. Even the humidity was unusual. But Anakin loved it, excitement coloring every aspect of the planet as wonderful. Their new master was surprisingly liberal as well, demanding work, but also allowing them time for themselves, much more time than Watto had ever granted them. Neither of them had been punished either. Yet.

"Ani." His mom positioned him and gripped his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Carefully speaking, eyes downcast so she couldn't see the luxury of tears, Anakin told his mother what he had done, of a landspeeder that was severely damaged and would need a new part, an expensive part.

They sat in silence when he finished. What is there to be said, when punishment is coming? She pulled him in for a tighter hug, rocking back and forth. "Oh Ani." But they didn't stay for long, as she pulled away and stood up, brushing the stubborn wet dirt from her knees, almost missing the cleanliness of sand. "Best get it over with. You know it goes better if the master hears it from you than from someone else."

"But what if he makes us go back? Or sells us to someone worse?" Anakin whispered, head still drooping like the surrounding fauna. "I don't want to go back. And he said he'd take us to other planets, too!"

Shmi felt the fear as well, but she had seen too many punishments where the masters found out the truth later. She held out her hand, and after a moment Anakin took it, feet resolutely following even as his eyes focused on the ground, as much as they could focus with the moisture clouding them.

Master Palpatine was sitting in his office, a spacious room with a desk situated by a balcony. It was a beautiful if sparsely furnished room, and one that Anakin had been called to multiple times for lessons with the master. He wasn't sure why their master took such an interest in him, teaching him subjects not related to mechanics. That's why he'd bought Anakin after all, wasn't it? For his mechanical skill?

Anakin haltingly told his tale to the master, his mother waiting outside the room, listening through the thick doors. After he finished, his fingers fidgeted with his shirt hem while occasional bird song echoed from outside.

"My dear boy, what are you afraid of?" Anakin's head jerked up in shock. The master was smiling at him, and waved him over with a hand. Anakin slowly stumped over, mind reeling, as the master sat him on a knee. "I'm relieved that you weren't hurt in your efforts. You're much more valuable than a speeder. Though I do appreciate you telling me this yourself."

Anakin recalled the pile of money for both him and his mother. "I think you paid more for the speeder."

"Oho, you are an observant one." The master gently pushed Ani off his knee and forced him to turn around. "It's true, I paid less for you and your mother, but I was prepared to pay more. Much more. Your previous master had no idea of your true value."

"Sir?" Anakin rubbed one toe in the carpet while he tried to puzzle out the master.

"Stick with me, and I foresee a great future for you." The man smiled again, teeth shining above his weak chin. "Though I do expect you to fix that speeder."

He gave a meaningful glance and Anakin nodded hurriedly. "Of course, master."

"Good." The master clapped his hands once before standing up. "Then I see no reason, after that, that we shouldn't go to another planet."

"You mean it?"

"But of course, my dear boy." The man laughed while ushering Anakin to his waiting mother. "You've proven your honesty and loyalty to me today. I won't forget it."

Anakin threw himself into fixing the speeder, fixing the droids, fixing everything. Palpatine may be his master, but he didn't make Anakin feel like a slave. Sometimes, Anakin felt like his equal.

* * *

Obi-Wan piloted the ship while Klo Poon rifled through medical supplies for a blaster graze on his arm. Not that the ship needed piloting, as they were on auto-pilot in hyperspace. They had succeeded on their mission of retrieving the holocron, yet Obi-Wan was displeased. Cad Bane had escaped, and Obi-Wan was not looking forward to informing Windu about this development. But they had regained the holocron, ensuring the safety of future younglings. That would have to suffice for now.

Suddenly, a cold shudder filtered through his body, starting at the back of his head and reaching his toes within seconds, leaving his whole body tingling unpleasantly. Behind him he heard Poon stumble into the room, and their eyes sought each other out.

"Try to raise Ponds," Poon ordered, fumbling into the co-pilot seat.

Obi-Wan had tried intermittently ever since they left the station, but he obliged and flicked their long-distance broadcasting array on. "Commander Ponds, this is Jedi Masters Obi-Wan Kenobi and Klo Poon calling in, please respond." No response. He addressed Poon, "The planet may be interfering with their communications. I'll keep trying."

"Perhaps-" Poon started, but an incoming message halted him, and a hologram appeared in front of them of Commander Ponds's head and shoulders. "Commander, report."

The clone was obviously piloting the ship away from something as he responded, "The children are safe, but I have some bad news. General Windu didn't make it. I'm sorry, generals."

"Was it the impostor?" Obi-Wan interjected after a moment of silence, hands tightening on the controls. He knew it was too dangerous for one Jedi and clone. He should have stopped Windu.

"Yes sir. He surrendered the kids easily, but when the general demanded he turn himself in, they fought and..." Ponds stopped talking, and they could only guess at the expression on his face underneath the helmet. His jerky flying smoothed at and he spoke to them again. "I'll rendezvous with you on the ship."

"Alright. Thank you, Ponds. I'm sure there was nothing you could do."

"I appreciate that, sir, but..." the clone drifted off again before shaking his head. "I'll see you on the ship. CT-411 out." The hologram fizzled and disappeared, but the unease flowing through Obi-Wan's body refused to dissipate.

"I can't believe Master Windu is," Obi-Wan balked at the word but forced it out, "dead. I thought the impostor could be powerful, but strong enough to defeat Windu?"

"We should never have divided ourselves," Koon stated solemnly, the lower part of his mask rising and falling with his words. "Yet there may be more information to be had. We will not know the true threat the impostor poses until Ponds tells us more."

"True." Obi-Wan steadied his hands on the controls, resisting the urge to stroke his mustache or cradle his head in his arms. They saw so much death in war, but surely not Windu? "I don't know which would be worse, if the impostor bested Windu or felled him by luck."

"There's no such thing as luck." Poon's words filled the room like the last note of a song, the absence of sound sneaking in before one could realize what it meant. Windu had been killed, and his killer was loose. Neither voiced the worst possibility, that this newcomer was a Sith, but the fear was inisidious. Poon seemed to remember the bacta-patch clutched in one clawed hand and set about applying it. Obi-Wan tried to clear his mind through the ache in his chest. They finished their journey quietly, despite their burning questions for Ponds.


	4. Chapter 4

After the master's announcement they didn't have much more time on Naboo. Anakin took to sneaking away from the compound many times in those last few days, anxious to see more, but cautious. He didn't want anyone revealing his excursions to the master, so he scrupulously kept track of his location and avoided people. But of course, one day he made a mistake, and his second friend.

* * *

C-3PO trundled down the hall towards the Naboo delegation's rooms, on assignment from his master. A message needed delivering, and 3PO was the one for the job. Apparently, the only one for the job. If his face could frown, 3PO would do so.

He didn't like this set-up. He didn't like sneaking around delivering messages, he didn't like people asking the poor droid if he was lost, he didn't like the few droids he was allowed to socialize with (namely assassin droids), and to top it all off he didn't like the master's master. But he did like Coruscant. The master may enjoy their excursions to other planets (not the business, just the sights), but 3PO preferred a more civilized setting.

Around the next corner he saw the entrance to the delegation's rooms, two guards quietly chatting by the door. He stepped up close and waited for one to notice him. "Excuse me." Neither moved. "Excuse me!"

"What?" one asked, dragging her concentration over to him and breaking the conversation.

How rude, 3PO thought, but said, "I have a message for Representative Jar Jar Binks." She looked at the little holo projector in his hand, then waved him in, striking her conversation back up. The door whooshed open.

3PO glanced between the two and the door uncertainly before blurting out a belated thank you, which they ignored it. Humans, he thought to himself. He awkwardly waddled between the two and through the doorway.

He entered a mostly deserted room, with a bored guard at the far end and a doorway on the left and the right. "I'm here for Representative Binks?" he asked, and the guard pointed to the left door. "Thank you." He bobbed his head uncertainly and shuffled down to the door, tapping his metallic digits on it.

"Come in!" That was the Gungan's voice. The door slid open to reveal the gangly Jar Jar, and the regal Senator Amidala, both staring amicably out of a window.

"Oh my. This is not good timing." Not that 3PO minded. Why his master trusted this bumbling creature was beyond him. 3PO would convince the master to find some other way, and then he wouldn't have to travel all the way out here on a fool's errand. "I can come back later." He angled for the door.

"No, no, it'sa good! We was just a talking." Jar Jar beckoned him wildly with a hand. "Come in, come in!" 3PO sighed but came closer. This will be over soon, he comforted himself.

"I have a message for Representative Binks," C-3PO stated, and when neither moved he emphasized, "It is highly confidential."

Jar Jar's eyes widened. "Oh, oh!" He turned to the senator and grabbed her hand in a firm handshake. "Thank you for a coming today. Me had a muy muy good time, but mesa be needing to talk with 3PO alone. Bye now!" He pulled Amidala to the door by her hand.

"Wait!" The senator yanked her hand out of his grasp with a reproachful look, then whispered, "Do you know this droid?" 3PO pretended not to hear, but couldn't help some miffed thoughts towards the senator. He wasn't a vagrant, after all, not like those assassin droids. So dull.

"Of course! Him and me friends long time. Bye now!" Jar Jar opened the door, bowing her out, but Amidala hesitated.

"If you need anything I'll be across the hall." She gazed at 3PO, who lowered the projector in his hand. Perhaps he shouldn't have it so obvious on his person.

"That's a muy muy kind, but wesa fine!" Jar Jar patted 3PO heartily on the back, causing 3PO to lurch forward and sputter. Amidala nodded reluctantly, and with a backwards look at C-3PO made her leave. Once the door shut Jar Jar locked it. From somewhere within his robes he pulled out a scanner and wobbled around the room, waving the scanner in different corners without a blip from it. Satisfied, he turned to C-3PO. "What's a going on?"

C-3PO held up the recorder pressed play. Immediately a miniature hologram of his master appears, hooded and standing, folding his arms as the image solidified. "Hello Jar Jar," the master began. "Good work on the last mission."

"Ahe," Jar Jar deflected, blushing at the hologram. 3PO looked skyward in annoyance. He would certainly not blush at such trivial praise. It was not in his programming.

The hologram straightened. "I have a new assignment for you."


	5. Chapter 5

a/n-Hello, and thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying it so far ;) I'm planning on updating around once a week. In other news, I wanna hear your opinions on this story, so feel free to review (but you must use the word "pineapple"). Here we go!

* * *

"I like clouds," Anakin informed his mother, "They're soft and cozy and fluffy and fly everywhere. Not like on Tatooine. Tatooine, everything is-"

"Coarse and rough," Shmi repeated his words from earlier, prepping the pile of red Chak-root before her for distillation. The head cook had showed her the process earlier. Now, Shmi had to get through this pile before she and Anakin could rest prior to his journey.

"Mo-om." Anakin dragged out the "o," scrunched his face, and paused his own work with the Chak-root. The picture of disgruntlement. He could only keep it in for so long though, before a laugh bubbled up. Shmi smiled in return, before swiping a root from his pile and adding it to hers, causing him to yelp. "Hey, no fair!"

"Quiet!" flew from across the kitchen, and they both hurriedly returned to the roots, though Anakin stole his errant root back.

"I don't see why you can't come, too," he grumbled in a whisper. "It's not fair."

This was not the first time they'd discussed it, Shmi reassuring him that the master promised it was only for a little while, reminding Ani how mechanical help was more likely to be needed than culinary help, that 3PO would be going too, and the overlying fact that there was nothing they could do about it. She also worried what it meant, that the master would take a child slave someplace he wouldn't take an older rational slave, and that most of the other laborers were servants or droids. But she wouldn't worry Anakin over that. Instead she sighed a little, before sneaking a peck on the top of his head. "Have you dreamed anything about it?"

"Nothing bad," he answered, and Shmi trusted him. Anakin was always honest about his feelings, though he lied about plenty of other things. More importantly, he trusted his visions, so that would reassure him more than she ever could.

"Then we'll be okay," she declared, shuffling the finished root pile so that the newer additions wouldn't slide and bounce away. "Just remember the wonderful person you are, Ani."

* * *

"Senator, are you still there?" Padme clamped down on her communicator, hoping the Rodian woman ahead didn't hear. The woman kept walking, though, so Padme drifted after her.

"What is it?" she hissed into her comlink, turning her face away from her prey. There were enough people around to cover her voice, and who knew how good the woman's hearing was, but Padme did it anyway.

Captain Typho's voice crackled through again. "Kreet Sabal lives nearer the senate. Wherever she's leading you, it's not official."

"Good." She would hate for this to be so simple. "Are you still able to track my location?"

"Affirmative, but be careful. It'll take a couple minutes to get to you if anything happens." She could hear a note of disapproval in his voice, but that was his job.

"I will be. You know you stand out."

"So do you," he shot back. Ahead she saw Kreet turn onto a side street.

"But people feel more nervous around someone with a gun." She slipped between a pair of Weequay down the alley.

"You have a gun, senator." His dry tone would make her laugh, but the crowd was thinner now.

"But they don't know that," she whispered instead.

Kreet stepped into an establishment with a glowing sign. Padme could already smell the smoke of death sticks from over here, but she approached. "Kreet went into a bar."

"You should not go in," Captain Typho warned. "It is too dangerous alone."

She knew he was probably right, but there had been nothing for a month! With Palpatine cutting down on senate meetings and most senators retreating to their home planets for the time being, she and her allies were stuck. She needed any information that may be valuable to stopping the Clone Wars. When Padme overheard the Kaminoan senator Halle Burtoni arguing with this random Rodian, Kreet, she decided to follow Kreet.

"Sorry Captain Typho. She might have finished business or left for a different place before you get here, and I cannot allow that." Padme pushed open the door. "Come to my location as soon as you can, but don't do anything unless I tell you to."

"Understood, Senator," Captain Typho answered crisply. "See you soon." Padme let her arm fall and pushed her way into the bar.

She didn't like to think of herself as high class, but Padme felt it whenever she entered a cheap bar. The humid atmosphere of sweating bodies close together, the smokey-sweet cloud of death-sticks, and the pervasive smell of alcohol and vomit; there was a pressure in the air, like clouds gathering.

Padme took a breath to relax herself, but ended up coughing instead. Those immediately around her hastened away, and she moved to the side to let others pass without having to crash through her.

It was hard for Padme to get a good clean breath in that didn't tickle her throat, but once she stopped hacking she looked around with watery eyes. She caught a glimpse of Kreet's green face peering back through the crowd. She ducked her head. When Padme dared look up again Kreet was disappearing into one of the hallways, so Padme moved to follow Kreet. Yet Padme wasn't sure how much farther she could follow Kreet discreetly.

Most of the patrons were stationary, happily buzzed, but she had to scoot around a couple twining Twi-leks. As she did she bumped into one of the scattered hooded figures. "Sorry," slipped from her mouth, but the person didn't react.

Once out of the main room she coughed more as she looked around. There were a few doorways, and through one she heard murmuring.

Palms sweaty, Padme glanced back where she came from, but no one approached the hallway. One last harrumph to clear her throat and hopefully forestall any more coughing, then she neared the doorway and sank down to the base of the wall near it, feigning a drunken stupor.

"I'm tellin' ya, she doesn' wan' it gettin' out." Kreet's voice was low but excited. "Once she pays up-"

"So she has agreed to pay?" a lower voice interrupted.

"Well, no' as such. Bu' she sure wasn' happy tha' I knew, it's true! She'll pay us a nice sum to keep her goo' name." Padme saw the shadows from the door shift. Maybe Kreet was backing away.

"Then maybe it's time I spoke to her myself."

"Aah, you don' nee' to do tha'," Kreet brushed it off. "She'll come aroun'."

"I'm sure she will. Thank you for your help," the low voice growled before a blaster shot sounded from the room. Padme startled, and jumped up. From within the door she caught the sound of multiple people moving, and one shadow approaching the doorway. She bumbled over her cloak for a moment, then speed-walked toward the main bar.

"Hey!"

She ducked through the door and raced for the outside door. A blaster bolt sizzled through the air behind her, melting a cup in someone's hands. An explosion of sound and panic surrounded her, and she struggled to push through the exiting crowd surging though doors and under tables. Once she got through the door she pushed away from the crowd into a less crowded alley. She activated her comlink. "Are you here?"

"Almost!"

"Follow my location, don't stop at the bar!" she panted.

"Copy that." Captain Typho didn't say anything else, and she focused on weaving through the thrashing crowd.

"There!" echoed from behind her.

Padme had meant to go to the main street, but soon realized that in her effort to avoid getting trampled she had gone the wrong way and isolated herself. Not that crowds ever seemed to stop killers here. Another blaster shot sounded, and she lurched into a different alley, slipping out her blaster. This alley had piles of garbage with a tiny path in the middle, so she tried running the gauntlet, but between the skinny path and slick garbage she ended up careening forward into a stinking mass.

"I got 'em!" The voice is right at the end of her alley. Padme pushed off the muck and snatched up her blaster. As she flailed over the pile she heard another blaster bolt.

She rolled over the other side, unscathed. She listened as the sounds of steps and clattering garbage halted. "Hey!" resounded again, but this time scared. "This is none of your-"

A blast and a thump caused junk to clatter. Padme peeked over to see a lone hooded figure rimmed in light, blaster drawn. For a moment her heart soared, wondering if Obi-Wan or Ahsoka had somehow gotten into this mess, but a second later she saw that the figure was not a Jedi, just a citizen in a cloak. It looked down at its handiwork, until another of her pursuers ran into the alley. "Hey!" she yelled as she drew up her weapon and fired past the hooded being. Her second pursuer fell to the ground.

The hooded figure turned to her and Padme's breath caught, unsure what would happen next.

They stared at each other, her eyes strained to see any feature against the bright light. The figure took a step forward and she aimed. "Do not come closer!" she commanded, voice set and finger ready. The person hesitated a moment longer, then replaced their blaster under their cloak and started to retreat. Surprised, she dropped her arms. "Hey!" The figure halted, and Padme considered what to say. Was this person a do-gooder, or involved with Kreet? Looking at the dead bodies, she decided gratitude before questions "Thank you." The figure saluted lazily with their right hand. She holstered her gun, wondering what to ask first, but something spooked her specter, who then loped out of the alley to the left.

Another figure dashed from the right, glancing after the hooded one, before hastening towards her. "Senator, are you alright?"

Padme sighed, suddenly exhausted. It was Captain Typho. "I'm fine, let's go."

"Yes ma'am." He prowled in front of her, gun at the ready as he directed her to the airspeeder. She hopped in, still clutching her gun. Captain Typho followed a moment later, taking off while she scanned the surroundings ready to shoot.

No one spared them a glance though, and they pulled away. "Did you find anything?" the captain yelled over the wind.

Padme shook her head, "No," and relaxed into the seat. Beneath her fingers she could feel the frayed seam, and she concentrated on that while she got her breathing under control. She thought back over the little bits of the conversation, wondering if she did find anything. She didn't like that Burtoni was being blackmailed, but was it about the clones or a personal issue? She could hardly ask Burtoni, Burtoni was contentious over everything, but this warranted more investigation.

"Who was that?" the captain called over the wind, piloting outside of the usual lanes.

"What?" She righted herself and tried to pay more attention.

"In the alley with you."

Padme thought about the moment the person appeared, coming to aid her. Another peculiar thing to investigate. They needed all the allies they could get. "I don't know. Yet."


	6. Chapter 6

an: Gonna use some quotes from Dooku Captured and The Gungan General episodes, aw yeah. Season 1 espidodes 11 and 12. Don't own anything, etc.

* * *

Anakin didn't see many people when he was on Coruscant. True to his mother's suspicions, he was kept away from people who would have informed him of the illegal status of slavery, and was too happy to not be treated as a slave around the rest that it never occurred to him that something was wrong.

One person the master loved to parade him around was the Count. The count was an appropriately imposing figure, his regal features crowned by his shining white hair and framed by his neatly trimmed beard, while he dressed himself in well-cut black clothes. Anakin wanted to touch his short-cape, held by a simple chain, but mostly he wanted to ask about the laser-sword hanging off his belt. But he was rarely alone with the Count. The master would clutch Anakin's shoulder while listing his virtues to the Count, who would politely listen, and always state at the end in his deep and powerful voice, "Splendid. I will make sure to keep an eye on him."

Anakin was conflicted concerning the Count. The man always seemed to be appraising him, those times that the Count actually paid attention to him. It made Anakin uncomfortable. But the stately human had a laser-sword, so he must be a Jedi, and wise and strong. But Anakin had always thought a Jedi would free him from slavery. Although Master Palpatine was the best master so far, Anakin longed to be free.

The Count didn't act like a Jedi, but it was he that stirred Anakin's rebellious emotions with cryptic comments about slavery and the Outer Rim. Anakin would scowl at this, but keep his silence. When he was younger he didn't trust the Count, and when he was older he didn't want to ask the Master outright. Anakin always skirted the issue and left conversations dissatisfied. For that alone, Anakin disliked the Count.

* * *

"Look how the mighty Sith have fallen." Count Dooku looked up to see Obi-Wan Kenobi crowing at him, which was hardly a surprise. Being Jinn's padawan hadn't curbed Kenobi's cynics. It was a pity Kenobi wouldn't join him. Dooku saw a lot of Jinn in him. Dooku had hoped that this latest attempt by the Jedi order to capture him on his own ship would be the opportunity to convince Kenobi, but instead it had deteriorated into this debacle of Dooku strung up by pirates on a back-water planet while Kenobi assessed him. A pity, all of it. At least the Jedi Council and Senate had sent Kenobi, the _Negotiator_.

"Suits you, count." The second voice was a surprise, and Dooku's glower deepened as he recognized it. A young man dressed in unassuming clothes trailed Kenobi into the chamber, strutting where Kenobi glided. Anakin.

"It wasn't so long ago that you yourself were in similar surroundings," Dooku prodded pointedly in his bass voice, straining at his wrist restraints to keep an eye on the erstwhile apprentice. Of course Darth Sidious would send this whelp to extricate Dooku, further fueling the rivalry that the boy still did not understand. Dooku understood, pointless taunt that it was. The slave was not a threat. But one question burned through Dooku's mind-what had the boy told Kenobi? "I do hope you two know each other?"

"Getting senile in your old age, Count?" Anakin teased, finally ceasing to circle Dooku. Kenobi followed suit, thankfully. "And here I thought we saw each other too much."

"Now now, Lars, you should be polite to the Count. He is after all, one of your elders," Kenobi admonished, and Dooku almost growled. Dooku should have known that the two would get along. Kenobi frowned and crossed his arms. "Somehow the Separatists got wind of your capture, Count. You should hope that Lars's ransom gets here before the Senate's, elsewise you'll be in a cell similar to this for a much longer period."

Ah, so Kenobi was suspicious of the boy. Dooku felt a flutter of hope that this would be his chance to rid himself of the nuisance. "I will be sure to thank you properly for the ransom, boy," he paused to glare at _Lars_, "if it comes through. And if you two don't join me in this cell. These pirates are crafty creatures."

"Everything's under control." Anakin returned his glare, warning him to mind his tongue. Dooku smirked and watched him squirm, and almost laughed when the two exited the cell, Anakin warily watching him. The day this mindless maggot was gone would be a glorious day.

Unfortunately for Dooku, the two would-be ransomers were captured within the night. Worse, they were tied directly to him, three strung force-users in a row. Kenobi was the closest to him, so after unsuccessful attempts to untie them all Dooku nudged Kenobi awake.

The young Jedi shifted and blearily blinked his eyes. "Count? Weren't you..." Kenobi sat up fully and looked around, rubbing his head. "The drinks."

"I warned you." Dooku leaned back against the wall. The benefit of this situation was getting out of that containment field. His arms and shoulders were still sore, and he did not want to hear another age joke because of it. "Now, you have reaped your reward."

"Charming as always, Count." Kenobi grimaced. "I see Lars has yet to wake."

"Yes, Lars." Dooku felt along his belt where his lightsaber should be, annoyed to be unarmed. The pirates would pay for these indignities, all of them. They weren't part of his master's inscrutable plans. They could be dealt with openly, or as openly as the Count ever did such deeds. "I find it unusual that a Jedi master would work with a Separatist."

"That's funny, I thought you were a Jedi master and a Separatist," Kenobi quipped dryly, fiddling with their bonds.

"Amusing to the last, Kenobi." Dooku felt the rope tugging between them at Kenobi's attempts. "I simply want to know why you trust him not to betray you. You underestimate him at your own peril."

Kenobi frowned. "Why do I get the feeling that you two don't like each other? You're on the same side, he's hardly your enemy," he said, and gestured at Anakin, curled on the floor.

"Is he?" Dooku questioned, looking meaningfully into Kenobi's eyes. For all the hints he gave Kenobi, Kenobi should have unraveled everything by now! Why was he so blind to the truths before him, when he was so clever in everything else? Dooku could almost see the gears in Kenobi's head, churning uselessly. His Master's cloaking of the Force was powerful indeed.

"Afraid the Republic will buy you first, Dooku?" The boy was awake, stretching luxuriously and tugging on the cord as he did so.

Dooku scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. No one will buy _me_."

"You could've fooled me."

"Pardon my intrusion, but now that we're all awake perhaps we could focus on escaping?" Kenobi suggested innocently.

"A fine idea." Dooku stood deliberately, allowing the others to stand with him. "_Lars_," he growled out, "why don't you use that mechanical skill your master always lauds you for?"

Their various attempts at escape scraped Dooku's nerves raw, but when it ended with him alone in a cell and the other two at the pirate Hondo's mercy he found he didn't mind as much. Their constant banter, generally at his expense, reminded him small chattering creatures, like the Kowakian monkey-lizard that had stolen his lightsaber for the pirate, Hondo. Foul creature with a foul master.

When the power went out a few hours later Dooku took it for the boon it was, exiting his cell and slipping through the pirates compound, and retrieving his lightsaber from where the pirate had stowed it. Outside were a few ships, the majority the round saucers of the pirates, but two stuck out. One was obviously Kenobi's, a sleek Delta Star-fighter, which meant that the other clunky ship had to be the Anakin's. Dooku smiled.

A crash and a shot made him turn around. Behind him a pirate with outstretched blaster crumpled to the ground, revealing the ship's owner.

"You're finally catching up," Dooku stated as he offered Anakin a tight smile. A pity it couldn't have been Kenobi, they could have stolen the slave's bigger ship together.

"Get in the ship, we're leaving." The boy brushed past him, and Dooku followed after.

"You're lucky that the power went out." Dooku settled into the copilot seat as Anakin took the helm.

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Anakin said, patting his right arm around where a communicator would be. Dooku wondered who Anakin could possibly have as a contact on this forsaken planet.

"I suppose I should be impressed." It was more likely that their Master had a contact already prepared for Anakin. He coddled Anakin too much, in Dooku's opinion.

"Stow it, Count." Shortly thereafter the ship thrummed with life and they ascended. For a moment they were able to see ground vehicles approaching the pirates' lair, Republic by the look of them, but Anakin angled the ship up through the atmosphere and they left the planet Florrum behind. Dooku had been saved from being taken prisoner by the Republic, which was a relief. He didn't want to know if his Master would orchestrate a desperate escape for him, or let him find his own way out. However, that was no longer a problem.

There were a number of things to do once he got back to Serenno, and Dooku was grateful that Anakin entered that destination into the navicomputer without a word. The stars streaked until only hyperspace was left, and Dooku mused to himself. Dooku would have to properly thank the pirates, but he had weapon tests to review, planets to subdue, an apprentice of his own who was growing too strong too fast, and someone investigating Kamino again. Ensuring that his master's plan came to fruition was quite the task, and Dooku strove to move his pieces of the puzzle accordingly. And concerning that Kamino business, who was to say he couldn't use his master's set as well?

"A thank you would be nice," the boy griped next to him. Perfect timing, if annoying.

"Thank you." Anakin's gaze shot over, and Dooku smiled pleasantly. "It seems our master has managed to make you adequate. Adequate enough that I need your services."

"This wouldn't be like the last time?" the boy jeered. Ah, his arm. Dooku was lucky the Master forgave that particular incident. Terrible training accident. Dooku smiled wider.

"No, it would not." He exhaled soundly and tapped the control board. "It seems people are poking around where they should not. A Rodian discovered some unfortunate facts about the clones, and was duly taken care of. However, someone else overheard the meeting and got away."

"And you want me to..." Anakin trailed off, waiting for Dooku.

"To track down any spies, yes," Dooku finished for him.

"But our master-"

"Does not require your services day and night," Dooku interrupted again abruptly. "Do not inflate your own importance."

Anakin rolled his eyes, but nodded in acquiescence. Really, Dooku didn't know why their master hadn't asked the boy to take care of this in the first place, he was perfectly positioned on Coruscant. It was about time the boy started being of more practical use, and make up for his mixed results on Mustafar.


	7. Chapter 7

a/n-thanks for them reviews :D Also, I think earlier when I put in Kreet I never said who Kreet was/did/anything. Kreet's oc, and just a reporter.

"Come here, _boy_," spat the Master.

Anakin strode forward, eyes blazing. Why did everyone insist on calling him that? He wasn't a little boy anymore. He had proven himself, time and again, regardless of morals, regardless of the Count's disappointment, regardless of all the obstacles placed in his way. He saw the unfairness in the galaxy, in his own situation, but he agreed with his Master and the Count and had acted accordingly.

Usually the Master called Anakin by his name, a lone sustaining voice in a sea of disapprobation. Not now. Any time the Master thought Anakin had lost his way, his Master changed into a different creature entirely. It wasn't fair.

Anakin tried to control his frustration. This man envisioned a galaxy without turmoil, where people wouldn't suffer like Anakin had, or worse. Anakin wanted to believe in his master.

"_Kneel_."

Anakin knelt down, one knee sinking to the floor, but barely inclined his head, eyes focused on Master Palpatine's red collar. So many things in the room were red, the carpet and curtains a dull red, the desk a dark brown-red, the Master robed in red. The room wasn't too different from the Master's private office on Naboo, but the closed windows and doors stifled the air, and he felt like he was back on Tatooine, burning up even as the twin suns set. He took a breath through his tightening throat, too warm but not quite sweating.

"I did as you ordered, Master. They are willing to cooperate-"

"Silence!"

Anakin clenched his teeth, hands tightening to fists.

"Insolent boy." Anakin's eyes flicked up to see his Master's eyes swirling molten red and gold instead of their usual blue. They became slits right before the Master raised his hands, and Anakin felt a burning-cold pain lace through his body, metallic pinches forcing him to extend and contract with the waves of lightning barraging his body, unable to breath, unable to think, just wanting the pain to go away, wanting to know what to do to make the pain go away.

It stopped, and he gasped in air. His body still convulsed. He was laying face-first on the floor. His whole body ached. His knees and hands felt like they had slight rug-burns. A groan escaped, but he cut it off short and tried to control his breathing. Everything smarted, but as the physical pain ebbed Anakin remembered his pride.

He forced himself to push off the ground and kneel again, jaw set as he glared at his Master, chest heaving.

"You think to challenge me, boy?" The Master rose from his chair and rounded the desk. Reaching Anakin, he placed a fatherly hand on his head and whispered, "I'm afraid you have much to learn, my very young apprentice."

"But I did what you asked," Anakin insisted roughly, still catching his breath. The hand on his head caught in loose curls, nails scraping the skin.

"And almost revealed the entire operation," the Master finally explained, almost conciliatory, before slapping Anakin. "If I wanted it to be blatant, I would not have sent you. Now, get out of my sight."

* * *

Not for the last time, Padme questioned her choice of establishment. Here she was at the bar (yet again), searching for information (yet again), without backup (yet again). She felt safer this time as she was not tailing someone, yet not, as she went without Captain Typho's knowledge or approval. If she got into trouble, she was on her own.

Padme came with two objectives. One, see if any of the thugs from the previous occasion frequented the place. Two, make contact with her helper should they appear. The organization who had killed Kreet would be easier to investigate with someone not as high profile as herself, and someone who helped once could be persuaded to help again. Although, she doubted that many people recognized her down here, and she had disguised herself sufficiently that the Besalisk hitting on her didn't recognize her.

"As I was sayin', you humans rarely get to know the full pleasures of Coruscant's lower levels, and I know all the best places." He winked and put one arm around her shoulder, another around her waist. Padme firmly shoved his hands off. "Just bein' polite, little lady."

Her grip on her drink tightened. Not only was she unable to search the backroom for any possible clues remaining after a week, but the Besalisk was still forcing physical contact and conversation after she had said no, multiple times. She stood to leave, but the Besalisk yanked her back down.

He frowned. "That's not very nice."

A snort from the right. A human male, swirling his drink with a spoon, eavesdropping on their conversation. Padme wondered at his appearance. Had he been there the whole time and she hadn't noticed?

"As I was sayin'," the Besalisk tried again, but another snort stopped him.

"Look, buddy, I don't think she wants to hear it." The stranger didn't look over at them, taking a draw of his drink and thumping the glass back down. "You'd best move on." Padme narrowed her eyes at the man-what was his angle?

The Besalisk looked at the man before breaking into a laugh, yanking Padme back into another grip. She roughly pushed him off, failing to dissuade the Besalisk. "I don't think you can make me."

"I don't think I'm the one you need to worry about," the man said, glancing sideways at Padme. "I've seen her shoot." The Besalisk looked over at her too, confusion and newfound wariness in his gaze. With the Besalisk's eyes off of him the man whipped a dart out of his sleeve and stuck the Besalisk with it. The Besalisk slumped forward. The man's hand retracted so swiftly, that Padme blinked at the speed. Regular humans with those sort of reflexes had cyber or genetic enhancements. Unless they were Jedi, of course, but he didn't look like a Jedi. Perhaps he was Force-sensitive, she mused.

The man lifted his drink in a toast to her, and drained the rest of it down. He dashed some credits on the table near the Besalisk's upper right hand, and called the Balosar bartender over. She heard a muttered, "Sorry for the mess," but not the bartender's reply that made the man grin and the bartender's antennapalps quiver. The man stood up and sloppily saluted Padme from the other side of the Besalisk. "My lady."

That salute. Padme eyed his departure, then made up her mind. Hurriedly, she tossed her credits on the table and followed.

Despite his height, he was ambling slowly through the masses. She caught up quickly. "Hey!" He looked back in surprise but didn't stop. Padme matched her pace to his, dodged a ground walking the other way. "Thanks for doing that back there. And the...other time."

He flashed a grin. "You're welcome." Padme sighed noiselessly in relief that he was the person from before. Her only trouble now was to broach the subject of espionage, and convince him to help.

Unsure of how to start, she asked, "What'd you give him?"

"Nothing illegal. He'll be fine soon, might forget the whole thing." He waved off any possible ramifications with a gloved hand. "The barkeep will take care of him." They turned down another busy street. This area of the lower levels was vibrant, almost pleasant with its festive air, but Padme knew a few turns would take her into dangerous alleyways. What she would give for a day on Naboo.

"For all your hard talk, that was a surprisingly peaceful end," she noted.

"You don't approve? Would you have preferred some aggressive negotiations?" the man said, chuckling.

"I didn't say that." She squeezed closer for a moment as another group passed, one person elbowing her slightly. "I appreciated your resourcefulness."

"I see." The conversation lapsed as Padme was distracted by their surroundings, as she rarely came down here. They passed various stands, food and textile, tinkers and mechanics. Behind the stands were bars, hotels, and the rare open courts. Above air traffic screamed by. Padme could feel the congestion building in her throat. Coruscant was many things, and clean was never one of them.

"You're not going to follow me all the way home, are you?" the man asked, halting to eye her. "I would rather you didn't." Despite his nonchalant tone, his fingers were tapping rapidly against his leg.

"Don't flatter yourself." Padme gathered her thoughts and decided to take the plunge. "Do you want a job?"

At his disgruntled expression she added, "I need help investigating around here, and your quick-thinking could be useful. As you can see, I am not yet used to the environment." Padme could handle investigating Burtoni, and had other well-positioned allies should she require assistance. But she wanted to know more about the group trying to blackmail Burtoni, as they might give up information more willingly.

He shifted his weight and folded his arms. "Is this about the goons from last time?"

"Yes. They have blackmail on...an associate of mine." She spoke hesitantly. It would not be wise to give out information before he agreed to help.

"What is this blackmail?" he probed, eyes glinting. They locked eyes, and Padme felt like he was an interrogator instead of a potential spy. She stood her ground, but his gaze made her feel uncomfortable. She was at a disadvantage, and she did not know why. Another group of people walked past them, and Padme backed down.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, and his posture relaxed. He gestured for them to start walking again, and she followed. What a strange reaction, she thought, frowning. "My friend is a very private person."

"Do you know who the others were?"

Padme shook her head. "Only the woman they killed, Kreet Sabal. She was a reporter who frequently hung around the Senate building, one of the ones more likely to publish scandals. But she seemed to know them. They may have been sources on other stories or came to Kreet because of her previous articles."

He nodded thoughtfully at her comments, then his head turned as though he'd heard something. Padme looked around to see what he saw, but before she could discern anything other than that they were standing by her speeder he said, "I'll do it."

"Really?" Padme blinked. "We haven't discussed payment yet, or how to relay information-we don't even know each other's names!"

"You wouldn't happen to pay in Wupiupi, would you?" At her bemused no he chuckled dryly. "500 credits, same time same place, and you can call me Ani." He took one of her hands and bowed over it, and Padme felt the barest brush of breath against her knuckles. "My lady."

With that, he whirled and rapidly withdrew into the scarce groups of people.

"Wait!" she called out, but he was gone. She wanted to finish the transaction and conversation properly, instead of this bewildering and disturbing revelation that he had known all along who she was. Padme didn't know if she should be comforted in his skills or scared, but she knew one thing for sure. Next time, she was bringing back-up.


	8. Chapter 8

an: See season 3, episodes 15-17.

How did this happen? She was supposed to be _safe!_ He couldn't believe it, any of it; the body in his arms, the smell in the air. How had she even ended up here, on the planet they had both been over-joyed to escape, where no one deserved to be? Dooku? The Master? Who else could know of her existence, would care about a slave of the Master's?

Grunts sounded from beyond the entrance to the hut. He pulled his burden to his chest, rocking in a strange room on a planet not strange enough. Whoever had put her here would suffer.

But first, those directly responsible for her death. He stood and ignited his lightsaber, the red glow contesting with the small fire pit in the middle of the hut to wreathe his face in shadows. By the end of the night, he was the only living biped in the area.

* * *

"Ugh." Ahsoka raised her head, shaking it gently from side to side to clear it, feeling her lekku brush against her shoulders at the motion. Light streamed into the cockpit, and last she knew they were in space. "What happened? Are we still in the Chrelythiumn system?"

"I'm not sure," Master Obi-Wan replied. She could see him rubbing his head with one hand while checking the ship's computer with the other. "We might be inside that strange shape we saw in space."

"Inside?" Ahsoka couldn't help the incredulity in her voice. Through the front viewport she could see lush yet bizarre plants, leaves stretching in the bright sunlight. It was beautiful, but Ahsoka felt unsettled. Her skin tingled and her montrals hummed. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes. The Force is strong on this planet, or whatever it is. Perhaps this is where the ancient Jedi distress signal came from." Even in distress, his voice was even. Master Obi-Wan flicked a few switches, attempting to raise Rex. They were supposed to meet Rex at the location of the distress signal, but despite making contact right before their blackout, Ahsoka and Master Obi-Wan had been unable to see Rex's ship. The whole situation was odd, no doubt about that.

Ahsoka sighed and stretched her neck quickly before turning to her own controls. The ship was functional at least, and there were no angry inhabitants threatening them. Yet. She turned on the scanner to make a check. You could never be sure where the droid army was. The screen powered up.

She blinked at the screen in surprise. Most of the screen was empty, as it scanned for ships and other metallic objects and not plants, but there was a blip on the screen. "Uh, master?"

"What is it?" He was adjusting a dial, flipping the switch on and off, and turning the dial again.

"There's another ship here." She pointed at the spot on the screen that flashed in the dull red background, indicating a ship.

At that Master Obi-Wan forgot about the communications array. He scrambled to look at the scanner. "What?"

"Do you think it's Rex?" Ahsoka hazarded, looking out the port again. The plants were furling and unfurling lethargically, she realized. They weren't carnivorous. She hoped.

He shook his head, settled back into his chair staring to the side of the scanner. "No, that's not possible. His ship couldn't land here."

"An escape pod?" Her stomach roiled uncomfortably in time with the plants. Ahsoka directed her gaze back at the safely blinking red light framed by gray metal. "Or any of the fighters. He could have sensed we needed help."

Master Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm not sure. And everything here should be in working order, so we don't actually need help."

"Whatever, Master." Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Next time you land a ship without knowing how you got there, I won't send back up."

"You'd leave your master stranded?" Master Obi-Wan flipped a hand in the air. "And here I thought I taught you well. For that, you can greet our fellow stranded first."

He ushered her to the door, with Ahsoka protesting the whole way. She was distracted from her protests by making sure her datapad had the location of the other ship, not that anyone really had the verbal upper-hand with Master Obi-Wan.

The ramp lowered and the humid air hit Ahsoka, stirring vague memories of a jungle forest back on her homeworld. She let the thought be, practiced from years of releasing personal attachment, and noted the world around her. The plants looked brighter-she should see about cleaning the viewport-and even little blades of grass were straining towards the sun, unmoved by a breeze. "This planet gives me the creeps," she said, carefully stepping on small islands of dirt in a sea of foliage.

"That makes two of us." Master Obi-Wan purposefully stomped some steps past her. "Come along, Ahsoka. They only way they'll eat you is if you stand around." Ahsoka shook her head, chagrined grin on her face. Sometimes Master Obi-Wan seemed psychic.

She scuttled after him, resolutely not staring at the ground or flora. Once she caught up she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "I just have the feeling that we're being watched."

He nodded in agreement and avoided a reaching branch. Ahsoka blanched, evading it in turn. As they tromped along she opened herself to the Force, and immediately felt a deluge of power surge through her. She shielded her mind and focused on the datapad in her hand. It wasn't that the place felt bad, she decided, but that it felt too much.

"Hm." She bumped into her halted master. The datapad indicated they had arrived, so she peered around Master Obi-Wan's form to see a ship of a similar size to theirs but of an unclear make, the only defining aspect being that it was unremarkable. "I recognize this ship."

"You do?" Ahsoka folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You really do know everything, Master.

"Hardly." Master Obi-Wan eyed the ground. "Judging by those footprints, I'd say Lars has left already."

"Lars?" She glanced around for the footprints, noting humanoid tracks (larger than Master Obi-Wan's) near the ship's exit. "Wait, you mean that guy from Florrum? The Separatist that rescued Dooku and ruined the ransom?"

"He actually wasn't that bad of company," Master Obi-Wan objected, "for a Separatist. But why is he here?"

Ahsoka kept her silence. He could hardly be here for the same reason as them, he wasn't a Jedi. Perhaps her unease came from Lars rather than the planet; a non-Jedi on a Force planet-thing, and worse, a Separatist that helped Count Dooku escape justice. She had teased Master Obi-Wan when he got back from being captured by pirates, but to her, Lars was bad news. A pressure on her foot forced her to look down at a root probing her shoe. She quickly moved a few feet away. Lars and the planet were bad news.

Meeting the planet's inhabitants didn't help, all three of them. The Son gave her the creeps, which made sense, since he was aligned with the dark side of the force, but the Daughter also gave her the creeps, and the Daughter was on the light side of the force. The Father claimed to be a balance, and Ahsoka didn't know what to make of that either. Sure, there were prophecies of a Chosen One bringing balance to the force, but what did that mean? Was the Father truly a balancing force, or on the light side because he kept the dark at bay? Would it be bad if he let the light side overpower the dark? And why had he brought them here? Ahsoka didn't know the answers to these questions. All she knew was that the best times on the planet were at twilight, when the plants no longer grasped but hadn't withered into black sticks. And that the name of the planet was Mortis, the three inhabitants had mentioned that.

"Ah, there you are, Lars," Master Obi-Wan addressed the man crouching by the second ship, interrupting Ahsoka's musings. "We've been looking all over for you."

"All over," Ahsoka emphasized, crossing her arms. The Father had been no help in trying to find Lars. The Son had laughed in their faces. The Daughter had looked reticent and spouted truisms rather than answering. Master Yoda would fit in here; Ahsoka wouldn't mind spending more time with Rex and the troops. They said what they meant.

"Obi-Wan!" Lars stood up and approached, brushing his gloved hands on his breeches. He was taller than Master Obi-Wan, Ahsoka noted. A tall, athletic human, but not bearded. Not for the first time she wondered what was easier for Master Obi-Wan, trimming or shaving his face clean. He was certainly attached to his facial hair. "Who's this?"

"This is my padawan, Ahsoka." Master Obi-Wan gestured to her.

"Ahsoka Tano, pleasure to meet you," Ahsoka added.

"Likewise." Lars nodded at her, then tossed his arms wide. "You've found me. How can I help?"

"Has the Father said anything more to you about why we're here?" Master Obi-Wan pressed. "I'm afraid he has been rather...obtuse."

"About everything." Ahsoka slapped a plant from her shoulder. "He wouldn't say where you were, either. Or why you're here along with us."

Lars grimaced. "I think that was a mistake."

"The Force does not make mistakes," Master Obi-Wan remonstrated, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes. Lars grinned at her, and Ahsoka was relieved not to have two adults staring disapprovingly at her. Master Obi-Wan returned his attention to Lars. "I will admit the inclusion of you does confuse me-"

"Because I'm not a Jedi?" Lars's eyebrow quirked.

Master Obi-Wan waved his hand. "Exactly. Why would a non-Jedi come to the site of an ancient Jedi distress signal?"

"That's why you're here?" They nodded, and Lars lapsed into thoughtful silence. Ahsoka watched him shake a vine off his leg.

When he took to long to continue talking, she prompted him, "And you're here because..?" There was no way that she was going to let him avoid the question.

He coughed uncomfortably. "Forgive me if I don't want to tell two Jedi why a Separatist was in the system."

"So espionage," Master Obi-Wan hazarded. Lars shrugged at the accusation and Master Obi-Wan sighed, and added, "Well, if you need any assistance leaving, we'll help."

"Master," Ahsoka chided, panic rising in her throat. "If he's a spy-"

"Not now, Ahsoka," Master Obi-Wan checked her comment, and her jaw dropped in dismay. This was a legitimate concern! They were at war, and this man was the enemy, had aided the Separatist leader!

"But Master! If he's really a spy-"

"Ahsoka," Master Obi-Wan warned, eyes glinting and jaw tightening. She didn't understand. Why was Master Obi-Wan's regard for hospitality higher than his regard for common sense? But he usually had a reason, and even if he was often disapproving of her blunt approach they both learned from each other.

She huffed and folded her arms. "Fine."

Lars coughed again, reminding them of his presence. "I appreciate that. I'm going to try to take-off now, but I'll wait around until you two are out of the atmosphere."

"Thank you," Master Obi-Wan replied. Lars headed back to his ship, but called back to the pair.

When Ahsoka deigned to look over Lars smiled and winked. "Keep him on his toes, Snips." He saluted and soon the door hissed shut behind him.

"Snips?" she questioned, but Master Obi-Wan chuckled and she huffed again. She was not that touchy. Not matter how personable this guy acted, she didn't like him.

They moved away from the exhaust ports when the engines roared to life. The plants retracted from the landing gear as it pulled into the ship, the ship gently lifted and turned, repulsor lifts flaring. Once Lars got above the treetops he raced into the sky.

Master Obi-Wan breathed out slowly. "We should take off, too."

"Master, wait." Ahsoka narrowed her eyes to watch the ship. Something black and bird-like was approaching it. The two met in the sky, but she couldn't see well enough to tell what was going on. Soon, one dark blot hurled to the ground.

Master and padawan took off running.


	9. Chapter 9

a/n: based off those same episodes, 'cause the Son does the thing here in the episode and I thought it was kind of a cool moment.

"You're weak. How disappointing." A smooth voice sounded near him, and Anakin groaned. His eyesight was blurry, but all around him was yellow and red. Why was it always yellow and red? "And you looked so promising in front of Father."

A feather touch on his cheek-Anakin lashed out with the Force. A satisfying thump sounded to his right. He blinked his eyes clear. He was in a cavern with magma pouring from the pillars holding up the ceiling and flowing around little islands of rock.

"That's more like it." The Son's voice was roughened, but his next statement came out evenly again. "Imagine what we could do, together. The galaxy would be ours for the taking."

Anakin rose and ignited his red lightsaber. "Your Father warned me about you."

The Son chuckled. "The fact that you needed a warning suggests it won't be heeded." Anakin kept his ready stance, and the Son frowned sympathetically. "You could leave, as you desire. Return to that Master of yours. He clearly has the best intentions."

Anakin gritted his teeth and the Son smiled. "Or you could do as Father asks," the Son started to pace, eyeing Anakin, "forever standing between me and my sister once he passes away," he moved closer as he rounded behind Anakin, "selflessly staying here, wasting away to maintain the balance of the Force." He halted in front of Anakin, expression dispassionate. "But we both know how that would turn out." He spoke softly, and Anakin let the lightsaber fall. "Why not skip all those years of torture and join me now?"

Anakin shook his head determinedly. "I will never join you!"

"Interesting. The embodiment of the Dark side is where you draw the line, but a Sith is fine. At least you recognize the importance of the dark." The Son's chuckles rolled through the room. "You are strange, Chosen one."

"Don't call me that!" Anakin readied his lightsaber again. He needed to focus. Although the Father wanted him to stay, Anakin had no desire to remain on this planet, or interact with any of its denizens more than necessary. The Father was the sanest of the three, as one might expect, but even he left Anakin nauseated and uneasy. "And stop wasting your time. There's nothing for me here."

"Oh, but there is." A blink, and the Son was behind Anakin, whispering in his ear, "Haven't you seen what your Master is preparing you for?"

Images arose before Anakin, blocking out the glow of the magma and the familiar stifling heat, robbing the reality he knew he existed in and replacing it with one in his head, one of screams and corpses, shocked faces going lifeless before his eyes, his hand outstretched. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber because he couldn't feel it in his hands anymore. Nothing was real except for the morbid parade. Pain seared through him as the blur of images focused on a man dueling him, slicing off his limbs. A new body, machine whirring, continued to wreak destruction throughout the galaxy, and all the while the Master's laugh filled his soul.

"If you leave, that is your destiny." The soft, pleasant voice was barely audible over the torment in his mind, but slowly his vision cleared and Anakin was one again with his body. He felt sick-he knew the people he was destined to kill. Not all of them, but did that matter? How was this bringing peace to the galaxy?

His eyes itched, but he forced them open against the hot acrid air and growled, "I make my own destiny."

* * *

"See anything, Master?" Ahsoka and Master Obi-Wan had located Lars's crashed ship, but he and the Son were nowhere to be found. However, his ship was looking worse for wear. Ahsoka poked at the jumble of wires which the Son must have ripped out during his attack.

Master Obi-Wan appeared from the cockpit. "Not yet. I can't sense anyone nearby, and I don't like the idea of facing the Son alone. I'm going to find the Father and ask for help."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "For all the help he's been."

Master Obi-Wan shook his head, though whether his disappointment was directed at her disparaging comment or at the obscure old man, Ahsoka didn't know. "Stay here and fix the ship."

"Fix his ship?" Ahsoka abandoned the bundle. "Master, he's a bad guy!"

"Isn't Lux Bonterri a Separatist as well?" His eyes twinkled while he goaded her, and Ahsoka groaned. Was he always going to tease her about Lux?

"Fine. Leave me here to fix the ship, where I definitely won't get attacked by some crazy gargoyle from the dark side of the force." She flicked her hand at the ruptures in the craft.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be safe. None of them seem concerned with us. But do let me know if you sense anything." He headed towards the ship's ramp. "Once you finish, return to our ship and wait for me. Don't run off anywhere."

Ahsoka bit back a snarky retort. This planet was not a place to fool around on. "Yes, Master."

Master Obi-Wan smiled and exited, leaving Ahsoka to the craft. She couldn't fix the scratching and scoring, but she did know a thing or two about wiring and mechanics. A cursory glance of the cargo bay/entrance revealed that the Son hadn't focused on wrecking the ship, which meant that mostly superficial systems and wiring had been affected. The magna lock on the door would need to be adjusted, and the door bent back into shape. In the hallway she needed to fix the wiring, then run some tests to make sure Lars would have a safe journey home through space. She groaned, but located the ship's mechanics tools. She wanted to be ready to depart when Master Obi-Wan got back.

A few hours later the ship was serviceable. Not pretty, not high-performance, but given the circumstances Ahsoka was pleased with her work. Unfortunately, when she commed Master Obi-Wan he had found the Daughter instead, and was now searching for the Father.

"Go back to the ship," was all he directed.

"I will, Master." The mini holo fizzled and disappeared, and Ahsoka sighed. It wasn't that she wanted to abandon Lars on the planet (the thought had crossed her mind, and who could blame her for wanting to abandon an enemy on a dangerous planet?), but she hoped that Master Obi-Wan found him soon. No one deserved to be stranded on this creepy planet, not even Separatist scum. The sooner they all got off, the better.

Ahsoka packed the tools away and exited the ship. Twilight was approaching. If she wanted to reach the ship before night she'd have to run for it. She started jogging through the slumbering jungle, enjoying the plants' lethargy but wary of the oncoming darkness.

It seemed that all the Force Beings' interest revolved around Lars. Why would the Son kidnap Lars, by all accounts an average person? She didn't know, and it bothered her. She could understand disinterest in her, as she was just a padawan. It would be years before she became a full Jedi, and who knows how long before she had Master Obi-Wan's or Master Yoda's wisdom, but that made it weirder that they weren't interested in Master Obi-Wan. She slowed to duck under some branches, then resumed her pacing. Master Obi-Wan had been warned about a Sith lord controlling the Senate, but she doubted Lars was a Sith. That should be obvious. He was just average bad, not ultimate evil. Moreover, why would the Force Beings call someone evil to help with whatever it was. Maybe we're all their counterparts, Ahsoka mused. Lars would be the Son in that case, obviously.

The ground rippled beneath her feet. Ahsoka fell, and was caught by suddenly vivacious plants. Overhead light blazed. "What the-"

It was fully day again. She scrambled up to not get swallowed by the grasping plant life. She flicked on her comlink. "Master? Come in, Master."

When he didn't answer, she broke into a jog again, the fastest she could go with the flora. Once she got to the ship she could use the scanners to locate Master Obi-Wan, and Lars, and they could all get off this demented place. She checked her position, and angled to the right a little.

"Ahsoka?"

She put her arm with the comlink up to talk but kept running. "Master? I'm almost to the ship. Is everything okay?"

"No." In the holo she could see the Father with him, breathing heavily and laying himself down while Master Obi-Wan talked. "We need to get out of here, now. As soon as you get to the ship, come to my location."

"Acknowledged." She turned it off. Ahsoka was nearing her target, finally recognizing some of the landmarks around her. Within minutes she was on the ship and powering it up.

"Come on, come on," she urged the ship. The Jedi council could stand to invest in some better ships, she griped inwardly, but in reality the ship powered up as fast as could be expected for a somewhat military organization. The war had certainly provided them a chance for better equipment. "Here we go."

The ship lifted through the canopy under her direction, though she had to yank the controls to break off some vines and branches. She smirked. "Not today, sleemos."

Flying higher than usual above the roiling trees, Ahsoka piloted the ship towards Master Obi-Wan's signal, located in a tall structure that the Father inhabited. Master Obi-Wan didn't comm anything else, so only the sounds of her harsh breaths and the ship's keening, thrumming engine were audible. She wondered what the emergency was. It was rare for them to be threatened by something other than clankers, and Ahsoka felt a thrill at the uncertainty. She could hear Master Yoda's voice admonishing her in her head, stating Jedi ideals of _not feeling anything_. Maybe that came from being 900 years old, that stoicism. She didn't want that. Right now, she felt alive.

Something dashed across her vision, a dark shape beyond the tower. She squinted, but couldn't make out what it was. Probably the Son. She grimaced.

A flat area that might as well be a landing pad was at the base of the structure. She angled down to land, just as Master Obi-Wan rushed out. Ahsoka waved and lowered the ramp, trusting Master Obi-Wan to jump the distance required. A quick, "Hello there," came from the comlink, and she took off.

The door to the cockpit hissed behind her, and a disheveled Master Obi-Wan plopped down. "Lars?" she asked.

His face was pale. "He's fine. He-" But Master Obi-Wan trailed off, fingers fiercely stroking his facial hair. "Just fly. I'll explain later."

They were flying out to space, but still near the tower. Ahsoka saw it start to vibrate, pieces breaking off and falling. A couple thunks against the hull, but she increased the distance between them and the tower and the thunks stopped. What didn't stop was a frantic energy pulsing through her, so strong she felt her stomach preparing to hurl. She managed to gasp out, "Master, what's going on?"

He shook his head, holding onto the ship.

With a suddenness that felt like a hit to the head, the sensation stopped. Ahsoka sat dazed, hoping her stomach and head would stop aching soon. It was only when she opened her eyes that she noticed the planet had gone dark, a perpetual twilight below them. Then everything went black.

* * *

The Father gently raised himself from his resting place. There was little time, and he needed to speak with the Chosen One.

The halls had stopped shaking. Dust covered everything, his robes leaving a trail between the piles of rubble, soft scraping sounds with each step. This hall had always been a somber place, peopled by a somber family. His Son had raged, but even he had possessed a solemnity unusual for one of such passion.

At the entrance a dark figure stood framed by the doorway. Time to meet his destiny.


	10. Chapter 10

a/n: sorry it's been a while and this one is short. Good luck with 2020, such as it is.

He woke with a gasp.

Dark. His room was dark, but after-images flashed over his sight, pixelated outlines of victims burning against his surroundings. The future.

He pulled himself to the side of his bed, leaned forward to put his head in his hands before remembering he wasn't wearing his glove over his mechanical hand. It was always a pain to extricate his hair from his hand. He sighed instead, tired but tense. He gripped his right hand into a fist, watching the metal sinews shift in the dim light.

"It's not real." He couldn't help speaking aloud. "I make my own destiny."

For a moment, it even felt true. His fist relaxed and he took a deep breath. He could do this.

_You know, when my father asked you to bring balance, I don't think this is what he meant._

"No." Dread doused him like a cold shower. "This isn't possible."

_Simple, but effective. _He could almost feel the Son circling him again. _Brutal. I'm proud of you, Chose One. You brought balance._

His hands fisted on both knees. "I could have caged you, would you prefer that?"

_So concerned about cages. Would our planet truly have been that torturous for you? It didn't have to come to this._

He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to shake the feeling of another presence in the room, a black hole dragging him into it. "Go away."

_You can't get rid of me that easily_. And once again, he was in that pit with the Son circling him. _I'm curious, is that how you plan to bring balance to all the Force?_

He ground his teeth. "You would have killed systems, your Sister would have enslaved them. You were too dangerous to be left alive."

_True. We were both sure that we were in the right, both bound to devour the galaxy in a struggle to exterminate the other. How fortunate we were to have you. _He could feel the sarcasm, seeping through the air. _I feel peaceful already._

"Go away."

_I told you, you'll have to try harder than that._

With a growl he slammed a fist into the bed, the Force flowing outward. "Go away!"

He scrambled up, turned on the light, whirled to examine the room. There was no one there save him, but he felt the weight of the Son's eyes on him, an echo of mocking laughter in his ears, and the bare truth of what he had done. He had had the chance to escape his Master, yet returned-a cage for a cage was no escape at all. But he couldn't deny his fear if the Force Beings fell out of balance, his fear of the repercussions through the galaxy. How much more power would the Master have if the Son killed the Daughter? He feared the Daughter too, with her blind duty and rigidity. He meant it-they were both too powerful to be left unchecked, and he would not be trapped forever, enslaved to their vacillating powers. Which left only one option. Had there been another choice? He wasn't sure. Everything was clouded. Perhaps the Son was right-Anakin was destined for the Dark Side.

"What have I done?" he whispered into the empty space, head pounding, eyes itching.

A light tap, and the door behind him opened with a whoosh. "Is everything alright, sir?" C-3PO's proper tones sliced through his craze for a moment.

He allowed himself to relax against the wall, thumping solidly on the durasteel. "I'm fine, 3PO." He mind was still tinged with the Son, but that was fine. He _would_ be fine. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pardon me sir, but the Chancellor has asked to meet with you as soon as possible." Anakin sighed, and 3PO twisted to look at him, shuffled closer to rotate a hinged arm onto Anakin's arm, then retreated to the doorway. "I'm sorry, sir."

Anakin had leaned his head back when 3PO added, "Might I suggest some blue milk?"

Anakin snorted. "Sure, 3PO. I'll be out in a moment." A sigh, and he resigned himself to meeting with his Master. There was still time.

* * *

"Ah, Anakin. How good of you to join us." Dooku saw Palpatine's face light up with the greeting, grinning at the doorway with that sickly, fatherly face he affected. The Count wasn't one for sentiment, didn't care to paint it on like Palpatine. Except for Obi-Wan and Ventress, he supposed.

"Apologies, Master, for my tardiness." The boy took a knee to the ground, hands placed on top of the other knee.

"I was surprised the message didn't go straight to you." Palpatine's eyes narrowed. "Make sure it does not happen again."

"Of course, Master." The boy bowed his head, contrite. "I'm sorry, Master."

"No matter." The Chancellor strode between the two, hands clasped behind his back, looking out of the window of this derelict factory, one of the few places on Coruscant that Dooku could meet with them in person. For those rare occasions when a holo just wouldn't do. "I called you both here to discuss my final plans for the end of this war."

"Already?" the boy asked, head yanking up in shock.

"How the time flies." Dooku couldn't help the dryness in his tone. This slave would be the death of him, the silly boy.

"Enough." Palpatine flicked a hand at them, a pale thing at the end of his ridiculous red sleeves. "I will tell you what I have foreseen."

Very little of it was a surprise to Dooku, excluding the push on Coruscant. He thought that plan had been abandoned. Anakin started a few times, given away by his clenching hands. Still a miasma of emotion. Dooku sighed. For all his training, Anakin remained wild. He would never have made it as a Jedi. But the Chancellor encouraged the boy.

And Dooku needed him. For now.

When their Master dismissed them, he accompanied the boy down a corridor, abreast of the boy, close enough to unsettle him. "I trust our little problem has been resolved?"

"Good to see you too, Count."

"Don't be flippant, boy. I have little time." He needed to regroup the fleet to make the impending attack on Coruscant believable, and the logistics of "capturing" the Chancellor. It was not the most streamlined of his Master's plans, but Dooku was appeased. Soon, the corruption of the Senate would be ashes in the wind. "What have you discovered?"

They turned a corner. "The eavesdropper knew the Rodian was there for blackmail, but didn't obtain any information."

"I see." Dooku halted to scrutinize his companion. Anakin had gotten better at shielding his thoughts, and his face was set in his pleasant but guarded expression he generally wore around the Count. Almost impossible to read. The Count turned to retrace his steps back to his ship, not particularly worried, but it never hurt to put the boy in his place. "If any information does get out, I am holding you responsible."

"Of course." Anakin smiled stiffly in response and Dooku left him, mind already plotting how to supplement his Master's plan. They were on the verge of greatness.


	11. Chapter 11

a/n: season 6 episodes 1-4. Also, I put angst as one of the tags, and this chapter deals with death somewhat. I don't know if this warrants a warning, considering all the "off-screen" deaths I've had so far, but I was worried about it, and so you're warned. Have a good week, or however long it takes me to post again!

Despite his promise, Obi-Wan did not tell Ahsoka everything he had learned. He meant to, but between Ahsoka's worried glances and his own turmoil he decided to wait. Wait, until he could meditate. Wait, until he could converse with Master Yoda. So many strange things happened on the planet, from Qui-Gon Jinn's appearance to the destructive ending. Obi-Wan had only experienced such a maelstrom of feeling once before, with the death of his master. To have his master returned and the Chosen One revealed, he had been bewildered and hopeful; perhaps this perpetual spiral the galaxy was in would halt, order and peace would be restored, and the Jedi would relinquish their warrior title.

But of course, it was not that simple. Qui-Gon remained dead, possibly an apparition of the Dark side. The Chosen One, a known Separatist, charming and ruthless, entangled by the Dark and Light sides of the Force, slipped through his fingers. Disappeared, both of them, leaving Obi-Wan to straighten out the mess.

Obi-Wan sighed, knuckled his forehead, clutched at his beard in thought. He knew what Windu would have done. A pang went through him, loss resurfacing at the thought of the stubborn Jedi master, worsened by the thought that Lars had something to do with Windu's death. It fit the facts: someone strong with the Force, in league with the Separatists and Darth Tyranus, or rather, Count Dooku. But he could sense the good in Lars, even if what the Father said was true and Lars betrayed and murdered the Son and the Daughter, and it confused him.

Obi-Wan frowned and returned to the thought of Dooku. The man had warned him of a Sith lord controlling the Senate, and urged caution around Lars, but Lars couldn't be the Sith Lord. The latter seemed to stem from a severe distaste for the man. Lars was important, of that Obi-Wan had no doubt, but someone else remained missing from the picture. Who was the Sith Lord?

Obi-Wan paced his quarters, brimming with emotion and unable to still himself. He had requested time off for him and his padawan until his mind was calm again. A distracted Jedi was a dead Jedi. Ahsoka, in her usual fashion, had set off on an escapade as soon as they'd reported to the Council. The thought of his rambunctious padawan lifted Obi-Wan's spirits for a moment, and he settled onto a pad to meditate, a slight smile on his lips even as his brow furrowed.

* * *

"I can't believe I missed meeting him!" Ahsoka grumbled again as they neared Padme's private quarters. "After all the stories you've told me, and he doesn't even stick around!"

"I haven't told you that many stories," Padme rejoined, bemused. The door to rooms slid open and they entered. With the door closed, Padme relaxed, enjoying the relative safety of her spartan but pristine apartments. She made her way to a holo-terminal, throwing back, "I barely know him, how many stories could I tell?"

"Enough stories?" Ahsoka suggested, following her over. "So what'd he give you?"

Padme pulled out the stick and stuck it into the terminal. An image fizzled into being, a clone strapped to a medical gurney with other figures, Kaminoans with their curiously elongated necks, appearing around the edges of the invisible room, taking measurements and observing him.

A gasp from Ahsoka-"That's Tup!"

At Padme's glance Ahsoka elaborated, "He was in the 501st. A few weeks ago he killed a Jedi, Master Tiplar, and they sent him to Kamino to see what made him _malfunction_." The girl's face twisted on the last word. "He died at the facilities. The official explanation was that the Separatists managed to infect him with a virus, and the case was closed. Fives, who went with him to Kaminoa, was shot on Coruscant soon after for attacking the Chancellor. He was supposed to have been infected, too."

"What do you think?"

Ahsoka sighed. "It's possible, but a virus that makes you turn on your general? It's suspicious."

Padme nodded slowly, thinking, then noticed that the clone was awake in the holo. "What's that Tup is saying?"

She turned a dial, and a frantic male voice repeated dogmatically, "Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders."

A Kaminoan scientist pushed a long hand on his forehead. "Good soldiers follow orders when they're given, not before."

The scientist took a syringe and sedated him, his bleary eyes closing. The image paused and fizzled away.

"That's it?" Ahsoka demanded. Padme leaned back in her stiff chair, and Ahsoka turned to her, arms folding before a frustrated hand made it into the air. "We already knew this. Can't your source find anything else?"

Padme regarded the tensed and trembling girl and sighed. She sometimes forgot that Ahsoka was still a teenager, still experiencing firsts, and some of those firsts were not pleasant. Even if it wasn't the first, it could always be a shock. "Ahsoka, you work with the 501st?"

"Some of the time." Ahsoka lowered her gaze and hugged her arms slightly. "Mostly we work with Commander Cody and the 212th."

"I'm sorry." Perhaps she should have watched it on her own, but how could she have known? "How well did you know him, know Tup?"

"Well enough." Ahsoka's face scrunched. "I could have known him better."

"Do you want to talk about him?" She wasn't sure how Jedi dealt with loss, and the fact that the deceased was a clone made the subject volatile. Many people, even some Jedi, didn't see the clones as individuals worth protecting. Ahsoka was lucky to have a master like Obi-Wan who treated them with respect, but Padme wasn't sure if Obi-Wan alone was enough to share the burden of grief.

Ahsoka shook her head. "I barely knew him and Fives, but it hurts to think about them. Everyone who really knew them seems fine. Master Obi-Wan is fine." She looked at Padme, beseeching. "Is it wrong of me to feel this way? A Jedi has no attachments."

Padme stood and hugged Ahsoka. "This has _nothing_ to do with being a Jedi, Ahsoka. This is part of being alive and surrounded by other beings. It's okay to miss someone you didn't know, it means you recognize there has been a loss in the universe. Even if the other troopers or your master don't talk about them doesn't mean they don't remember. And if you ever want to know more about Tup and Fives, I'm sure the others will be willing to tell you their stories. Some of them probably want to talk."

The Togruta nodded, avoiding Padme's eyes again. Padme pulled back and angled to get a better look at her face. "Ahsoka, trust me when I say what you are feeling is normal. We're in a war, and you're on the frontlines. But don't think you have to handle it alone."

"But shouldn't I be able to?" Ahsoka asked quietly, sniffling. "The Force is supposed to take it all away."

"I think that may be a case of wishful thinking," Padme answered slowly, hesitantly. She knew Ahsoka pushed the edges of acceptable padawan at times, and she had no desire to cause further friction, but, "Unless you're more machine than flesh, you will have pain. What I think your masters want you to know is that there is more to life than pain, that you can still be you after loss. Maybe not the same, but you can miss people and still be alive. Be happy. Don't miss them to the point that you miss out on your own life, or to the point where you become bitter. I doubt Master Yoda shrugs off deaths, no matter how calm he appears to be." He certainly moved slower since this war began, acting closer to how old he looked. "But I don't think he finds life a chore, either."

Ahsoka nodded and put a hand on Padme's, and Padme added, "You can always talk to me whenever you need to, or want to. I know it's not an easy topic, but I'm here for you."

"Thank you. I think I'll take you up on that." Ahsoka tightened her hand, then released. The two stepped apart. "I'm fine, for now."

Ahsoka straightened herself, brushed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "So do you think this clip is newsworthy? You said a reporter was killed over this?"

Padme scrutinized her for a moment, then nodded. Ahsoka would be fine for the moment, and hopefully reach out whenever she wasn't. Padme settled in her chair and turned back to the holo. "Yes, Kreet Sabal. Was there anything else about their cases other than a potential virus?"

Ahsoka frowned. "There was something about a tumor, but when it got sent here for testing it proved to be unrelated."

"Can they even get tumors?" Padme wondered. "I thought that was engineered away."

"Apparently the later clones have been more likely to experience problems from the code being over-replicated." Ahsoka shrugged. "I haven't really seen it."

Padme blinked at the news. She hadn't thought about that. But the question remained of whether this holo was supposed to hold some key, or if Ani's info was nothing more than what they already knew. "But they don't think these problems would make him kill a general?"

"The Jedi Council think a Separatist plot is more likely," Ahsoka confirmed.

"And what more do you think?"

"I'm not sure." The girl gestured to the holo-player. "Could we rewatch it? I'm sure there must be something we're missing."

Padme paused. "Are you okay watching it?"

"I'm fine." Ahsoka took a deep breath and pushed the button herself. They watched in silence, but everything besides Tup's and the scientist's words were medical gibberish.

"How do they learn their orders?" Padme asked, the images replaying in her mind even as the holo powered down again.

"Part of their accelerated training." Ahsoka moved to a sofa and collapsed, so Padme turned her chair around, thinking.

"So it's training, nothing is implanted in their brain?"

"Not that I know of. They are capable of making their own decisions, nothing actually forces them to do anything." The two twiddled and thought, and Padme tried to consider what, if anything, this holo had to offer them. If the orders were from a Republic war handbook, then they would have to research the medical jargon to see if there was any clues there. Padme felt a headache coming on. It was too bad this had already been cleared with the Jedi council.

"The tumor was in his brain," Ahsoka offered, eyes on the ceiling.

"What?" Padme refocused on her.

"In Tup's brain," Ahsoka clarified. "The tumor was in Tup's brain. And there may have been one in Fives, too."

"But they aren't from the new batches?"

"Not the newest," Ahsoka replied, "But I'm not sure if they're old enough to be considered safe from code-problems."

"And there was a tumor in both?" At Ahsoka's nod, Padme, narrowed her eyes in thought. If the DNA they were being cloned off of didn't have a tumor there, why would the clones have one? Would replication corruption cause the same tumor in two different clones? She didn't know, but this was something worth investigating. If there was a chance that the tumor was related to the troopers' agency, if their orders were implanted rather than learned, they needed to know what exactly the clones were programmed to do. Once again, Padme felt the weird fascination over the question: how human were the clones? She didn't like how they were used as expendable, comparable to the droids of the Separatists, but they inhabited a strange moral plane. Regardless of what rights they had, if they had pre-programmed orders that were part of their beings, the Republic needed to know. Were there orders that the clones couldn't question?

Padme stood up, taking the holo chip. "I'll keep looking into this. See if you can find out how the troopers are indoctrinated."

"Of course, Senator." Ahsoka nodded and bowed in a facsimile of Obi-Wan.

Padme snorted. "Thank you, padawan. Now, you should be getting back."

She walked the girl to the door, grateful for her young companion's help. It had been a strange evening. As always, clues led to more questions, and Ani had absconded without explanation. She was unsure she would see him again in time to ask about this, or at all. It was strange that the one time she'd brought back up, Ani had still managed to catch her alone.

"See ya around, Senator!" Ahsoka saluted lazily, and Padme guffawed. She hadn't told Ahsoka that Ani did that, had she?

"I look forward to it." She smiled at Ahsoka. "Remember, I'm here for you."

Ahsoka's smile tightened to a grimace, but she nodded. "Thank you. And I'm here for you, too."

"I appreciate that, Ahsoka." Padme waved as the girl strode down the hall, bumped into Jar Jar, and then left. She trusted Ahsoka, and she trusted Obi-Wan. They'd be alright.

At the end of the hall a golden droid appeared by Jar Jar, the same droid who'd sought Jar Jar out before. That was another mystery that bothered Padme, but considering Jar Jar's nature she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Padme stepped back and the door whooshed shut.


	12. Chapter 12

a/n: Episode III. I do hope you guys enjoy the direct quotes scattered through these chapters, 'cause to me they're like bacon bits. This chapter's got all sorts of bacon bits. Delicious, copyrighted bacon bits that I don't own. Feel free to do quote bingo, quote shots, whatever. Double points if you get the one at the a/n at the end, it's not star wars related. Interactive reading, eh? Happy Easter!

* * *

"Kill him." The words came through a haze, the haze of pain radiating from his wrists, his stumps. "Kill him now."

He jerked his head up and locked gaze with Anakin.

Blue.

Stormy.

"I shouldn't."

Scrunched.

"Afraid to do it in front of a downed Jedi?"

Tense.

"Even with what he did to your arm? What he did to your mother?"

Flickering.

"Is it true?"

Hardening.

"Do it."

Gold blossomed.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke to a most peculiar sensation. His feet were dragging along the ground, his face bumping against a metal chassis, and his belly was lumped around round metal. He felt awful. Sore throat, sore strips across his torso and legs.

Whiny beeps and whistles revealed that his mode of transportation, R2-D2, had reached their destination. A quick rock back and forth and Obi-Wan tumbled to the floor.

He groaned and sat up. "That was quite unnecessary, R2."

He felt at his leg, but despite his last memory being of part of the ship decking collapsing on him (courtesy of Dooku), it was not broken. In the face of good news he frowned. Why wasn't it broken?

_Beep beep whistle_.

"What?" He finally took in his surroundings. A docking bay with a couple of ships (one of which R2 was probing), a view of space distorted by the shielding, and a multitude of burning debris. And the view wasn't as much space as one could have hoped for this size of ship, as it was rapidly filling with a planet. Coruscant. "And here I was worried about getting the Chancellor home."

His eyes widened. "The Chancellor!"

He stood to find the man and Count Dooku, but a tirade of strange sounds from R2 stopped him.

Obi-Wan couldn't catch all the meaning. It sounded like a joke: Dooku, Palpatine, and another human did something on the ship, the punchline was that it was Obi-Wan's fault, and the ship was crashing.

He ignored the complexities and settled for the last bit. "Does that fighter work?"

_Whistle beep bop_!

"Alright." Running a hand through his hair, Obi-Wan asked, "And you're sure the Chancellor is safe?"

More angry beeps. He groaned. This droid may be the best, recognized by the Queen of Naboo and other high honors, but it was unbelievably rude. "Okay, okay! I'm coming."

He stumble-ran over and slid into the cockpit, as R2 lit his propulsion system and settled into the astromech hole. They started up the engine, and Obi-Wan directed the fighter outside of the dying ship and back to Coruscant's surface, but R2-D2 wrenched control from him and sent the ship in a different direction.

He scoffed at the droid, but let it do its thing. The moment of quiet provided Obi-Wan's brain time to process, and his processing led to a frown dominating his face. "R2, what exactly do you mean, it's all my fault?"

* * *

Padme hustled from the emergency senate meeting to her office, Bail Organa close behind.

"It's ridiculous!" she fumed. "Maybe if it were another Jedi, one I didn't know personally, I would believe the attack. But to say there was a whole conspiracy?"

"It is troubling," Organa concurred. Others passed by in a similar hurry, excited chatters and chitters from happy, confused, and angry speakers. Padme and Organa slipped and shouldered past the groups infesting the usually empty or at least reverent halls. This would happen any time there was a big announcement, and wasn't what Padme took issue with. "Do the Jedi know of the accusation?"

"I'm not sure." She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a Jedi in a senate meeting. "But I intend to send them a message, in private. The main ones I'm worried about are the Jedi at the temple here. Everyone else currently fighting...with the Clones..."

A wave of disgust and fear swept upward from her belly.

"Padme?" Organa looked at her, concern furrowing his brow, and she shook her head.

"Ahsoka," she whispered, mind frazzled with the implications. Was the girl still on planet? Padme took a breath, calmed herself. In a louder voice she asserted, "The Clones may be more pre-programmed than we thought."

"I thought that was the point?" The crowds were thinning, her heart was thumping, and Padme was glad to see her rooms coming up. "Perfect soldiers."

"'Good soldiers follow orders,'" she quoted, and he nodded, confusion on his face. Again the wave rose, and again she bit it down. "But what orders are they programmed to follow?"

* * *

"Highly irregular." Madame Jocasta tutted as she herded younglings, the gangly Gungan her assistant in the task. "And how did you come upon your information?"

He stumbled, and his ears flapped as he glanced over at her. "Mesa have a muy muy respectable friend?"

A likely story. "And who might this respectable friend be?"

"Ahe." Representative Binks rubbed the back of his head, looked to the side. Madame Jocasta hmphed. He was an exceptional example of questionable intelligence, but today she might experience his renowned, unnatural ability to achieve a positive outcome for herself.

Explosions, with crashes and vibrations, suggested that at least his information was correct. She grimaced. "What a bother."

The younglings in front of her screamed and clutched, hindering her and Representative Binks as they hung off limbs. She forced a cheery note to get them moving, "Just right out this door, dearies, come along."

Wails and sniffles abounded, but the sense of feeling safer by her than away encouraged them to cooperate. Poor dears, stuck in this mess, too young to have any accountability or understanding of the situation. They knew enough, though.

"There you go," she congratulated them as they entered the docking bay, the twilight sky visible but hazy beyond.

"Look! The ship isa right there!" Representative Binks added, and a couple of the younglings did perk up at that. She let him herd them in while listening sharply for what was happening in the temple. The guards must be slowing the advance of the Republic troops, but she can hear blaster bolts and lightsabers getting closer.

The docking bay had a number of ships, and masters and padawans had the majority primed for when the temple guards made their final retreat. She wasn't sure that the final ones would escape, and Madame Jocasta sighed.

A bolt came through the door they had used, and a guard stumbled out, normally biege and pristine robes scuffed and ruffled. When he caught sight of her and the younglings barely visible in the ship behind her he called out, "Get out of here, there's no time!"

And it was true-as he turned around he was gunned down. Troopers poured out the door, with faint hints of lightsabers visible behind them. A slash and a leap-one temple guard made her way over the troopers to a ship.

"Force be with you," Madame Jocasta whispered, then yelled to the cockpit, "Take-off!"

She can see the other craft preparing to lift-off as well, burners changing angles, determined pilots looking through their main viewports, hoping for any other survivors. The troopers took potshots, and the ships started to leave.

Still on the ship entry ramp, Madame Jocasta felt her feet press into the floor as the ship lifted, angled for the exit. But she still had a good view of the invaders, and in that moment her blood ran cold.

A tall (for a human) humanoid, obscured by black robes, burning eyes and scarlet weapon his only colors, hate roiling off of him.

She stumbled back, finally allowing the ramp to close. His eyes made contact with hers for a split second, then were hidden by the rising ramp. It shut with a dull clank, and Madame Jocasta wilted against a wall, careful of buttons and controls.

Despite being full of younglings, the ship was silent but for the engine's thrum. She numbly maneuvered to an empty seat by the Gungan, the silly Gungan who had helped avert catastrophe. She should thank him, thank his source, thank the Force and who knows what else she should thank right now. But one thought glared in her mind.

The rumors were true-the Sith had returned!

* * *

a/n: "roll credits!" Not as many quotes in this chapter as others, but whatevs.


	13. Chapter 13

a/n: so the only reason this references a specific clone wars episode is for placing (and very general placing at that), but 7: 9, 7:10.

* * *

Ahsoka watched the patrol go by from her rickety vantage point atop the crates and boxes. She been switching hiding spots every few hours, but there was only so far that she was willing to go. She didn't know how many functional space craft there were outside the city, how easy they'd be to find. If she didn't get off-world within the next two days, she would risk it. Risk running past all her friends turned enemies, each checkpoint a reminder that she was alone.

Crescendoing clanks. Familiar muffled voices. Fading clanks. Silence.

She vaulted to the next pile, then the next, moving to the edge of the building. It was time to get out of here.

The door to the outside had a small window. Scrambling down, Ahsoka took advantage of that to make sure the area was clear. The clones were still regular on their routes, still good soldiers. Unchanged.

She peeked through, thankful for the minimal lighting in the warehouse so people wouldn't see a horned shadow peering out. Outside a merchant scurried past, datapads clutched tightly against their chest. She ducked down, with the extra inches for her montrals, then snuck up again. There was a group of people that the merchant must have walked away from, a couple clone troopers and someone in a cloak. The cloaked figure turned and stiffened. Ahsoka dropped.

When she peered up again, one clone was nodding, and motioned the other to follow him. They were far enough Ahsoka couldn't see the identifying marks on their helmets. Faceless troopers, headed to a different sector.

Then the last figure started heading her way, nonchalant but definitely her way.

"Kark." She stumbled back. A box toppled, she snatched it before it hit the ground, and before she could hide the door opened.

"Ahsoka?"

"Lars?" she whispered, and looked up into his face. He'd put down the hood, halted a few steps away from her. What was he doing here with those troopers? What was he doing here, period?

They stared at each other. Ahsoka at least was unsure what to do, what was expected. She was right about him being evil. Right? This was the moment she'd been waiting for, just more personal than she'd expected.

"You're _alive_."

Ahsoka relaxed, montral to toe, a knot in her mind unraveling with the sudden revelation. The wonder in his voice, guarded as it was, was undeniable-if she was going to die, it wouldn't be because of him.

"Yes. It'd take..." more than clones shooting at her? More than being unable to warn the other Jedi? She should have known, from that holovid, that this was coming. She couldn't bring herself to make a quip, so she ended with, "Yeah."

"How? Nevermind." His blue eyes narrowed in thought. "You're stuck."

"Yeah." She cleared her throat, dust whirling in the air from the box she'd disturbed and was still holding. It was a small box, now with hand prints on its gritty exterior. She put it down. Rubbed her palms, gave up and wiped them on her leggings. "Yeah, I'm stuck."

"Okay." He ran a hand through his hair, once, twice. "Okay."

He paced, a little left, a little right. "Do you have a ship?"

"I'm not sure." She started to lean against the boxes, then thought better of it. Opted for sitting on one instead. "I had a fighter, but it's docked with all the others. On the ship."

"And it wouldn't have hyperdrive capability," Lars added. He stilled, but she was looking at the ground. For the first time since it had happened, she had a moment to think about what had happened, but now she felt exhausted, unable to think. She rubbed her temple. "Alright. Come on, Snips."

She looked up lethargically to him holding out his cloak, a soft smile on his face. "We're getting you out of here."


	14. Chapter 14

a/n: Hey, thanks :) I'm glad you like it!

This chapter assumes that without Jedi Anakin, Season 2 episodes 4-7 Clovis would survive.

* * *

The senators flocked and squawked. Truly, an unruly bunch, but no matter. That would change. Already, fear of his apprentice and army were seeping through the ranks.

Keeping a benevolent smile, Palpatine stood while the podium glided down to its resting spot, Mas Amedda and Sly Moore by his sides. Amedda nattered about the new Rodian senator in dismissive terms and the Chandrian senator with worry, Moore silently stared into space, and Palpatine closed his eyes, fatigued from another day in the Senate, prevaricating and hinting. Senator Amidala was supposed to be here today. Some might think that a slight against a benefactor, and it might be. She was certainly vocal about her disapproval. But it wasn't her style to skip senate meetings, and if she was going to sit out in protest of the Empire, she was going to be sitting out for a long time. A long time.

She was not the only one missing. Darth Vader had sent word of his arrival today, but Palpatine had yet to see him. Briefly relaxing, he attuned to the Force to find his apprentice. Glimmering lights clustered in the room above, one for each senator, and those by his side. More lights flitting in the building, sitting at their desks, such tiny lives. But where was he?

Nowhere. He frowned. Palpatine could not find his apprentice in the building, or the neighborhood, or the district. Now that he was paying attention, he remembered little moments where Vader's presence slipped away, a raging fire extinguished. Fear flashed through him, the fear of every Sith Master-was the apprentice already a rival?

He doubted it.

The podium settled on the ground, and Palpatine's fear dissipated. His eyes flew open, and the three filed into the corridor where his guards were waiting, red shades in a world of gray. The guards took their places by his side as he made for his apartments, but when his two supporters moved to follow Palpatine waved them off. "Leave me." He had had enough senators for the day.

After a slight hesitation and glance, Amedda and Moore bowed and altered their direction, allowing his procession to continue in solemn silence. Down the hall. Up the lift. Along another hallway. Into his suite. They met no one else along their path, the only sounds his guards' rustling red robes.

Two followed him into a small sitting room and took places beside the door. Within moments a servant, a Mirialan man, entered with food. The Mirialan set up the spread, removing covers that allowed steam to rise and the smell of food to fill the room. The Mirialan placed a plate in front of him, poured a glass, adjusted the cutlery, stacked the covers, fiddled with a napkin-

"Enough." Palpatine sighed. He would need a new servant. One less fidgety. After a day of squabbling senators, peace was all he wanted. "Leave."

The servant startled, and scurried away. Palpatine turned to his food, mind musing. He could keep the servant for a while. It would be amusing to see which senator would try to convert the man to their side, perhaps use the servant to assassinate him, if they were feeling bold. He smiled and speared his food. Yes, he could stand a few months of jitters for that. He was a man of simple pleasures, after all.

A more serious matter was that of his apprentice. Palpatine had been shielding the two of them and Dooku from the Jedi Council for a long time, and it was a difficult thing to do. Surely Darth Vader had not developed his abilities in that direction already? Not while he still had his Master to shield him. The fear crept through again, that Darth Vader was prepared to destroy him. Perhaps he had been too eager in killing off Dooku. But he found it hard to believe that Vader would be able to defeat him, though Vader was certainly rash enough to try anyway.

Something flickered on the edge of his consciousness. Three lights, in the lifts to his quarters. Or rather, two lights, and one black hole. "The apprentice approaches."

The guards did not react. Good, he liked their discipline. He dabbed his mouth with the napkin and pushed away from the table. The guards fell in behind him as he walked a couple rooms over to his office.

Palpatine recently had his desk removed. It would not do to look too senatorial, after all. Instead, he settled in his chair that dominated the frugal room and waited. Behind him he could hear the muted sound of traffic, air-speeders, air-scooters, even spaceships, zooming through the atmosphere. But he only cared for one thing.

In moments, the entrance opened. Darth Vader, shrouded in darkness, stalked into the room. Cowering beside Vader, Rush Clovis, the bankers' boy, looking the worse for wear. The pair stopped at the top of the three steps into the lower area of his chamber, and the third occupant shoved past them-the absent Amidala.

Palpatine remained seated, gazing across the room. He could not sense an increase of animosity in Vader, but he could be more thorough when they were alone. He set it aside and focused on the senators. "Amidala, my dear, we missed you at the Senate meeting today. Though I see now that you were busy. Rush Clovis, what an...unpleasant surprise."

Amidala scowled. Clovis stumbled forward, manacled hands upraised. "Please, I can explain."

Palpatine laughed. It struck at random moments, the utter pleasure in realizing someone had no idea that they had been his puppet all along. Truly, it was a wonder no one found out about him and Dooku. "I doubt that."

That sparked the Senator from Naboo. "What is this, Chancellor?" She gestured at Vader and Clovis, the one a dark monolith under which the other cringed. "Is this how senators are to be treated in your new empire?"

Vader spoke up, altering his voice under the hood, "Emperor."

"What?" Amidala stuttered, confusion crossing her face.

"He is no longer chancellor," Vader rumbled, "he is the Emperor."

Amidala gave Vader an incredulous look. Palpatine could almost see the rebellious thoughts swirl in her head, before being tamped down in the face of Vader and his guards. She bowed slightly but pointedly at Palpatine. "Pardon me, Emperor."

Was Vader mocking him, or supporting him? Another thing to tease out later. At least Amidala had been reproved, and by Vader. If Palpatine had corrected her, he would have seemed petty.

"You forget, he is not just any senator." Palpatine opened his arms. "He betrayed us all, and nearly got you killed in the process."

Her eyes flashed. "Then make him stand trial."

"Padme," Clovis hissed.

She ignored him, continuing, "Don't hunt him down like you have the Jedi, with your attack dog." Amidala glared at Vader. A few Jedi had escaped, but Vader was going through the list. Quinlan Vos, Shadday Potkin, Luminara Unduli, so far, as well as some political opponents.

"A good attack dog," Palpatine smirked, and Vader flinched, ever so slightly. An attack dog who needed correcting. It had been no accident that he could not find Vader earlier. The apprentice had no secrets, and that would not do. Palpatine looked forward to ripping those secrets from Vader and putting him in his place.

But first, Clovis. "I understand your concern, my dear," he addressed Amidala. "But these are troubled times. Darth Vader's methods are brutal, but effective." He waved to Clovis. "Come here."

Clovis hesitated, and at Palpatine's nod Vader gripped his arm and dragged him forward. Clovis struggled to keep his feet under him, Vader half-lifting him.

"Stop!" Amidala demanded, rushing to Vader's other side. "There's no need for this, he can't do anything!"

Perfectly done, slave. Palpatine painted a pained smile on his face. "Please, Vader, show our guest some respect."

"As you wish, my master." Vader inclined his head and unceremoniously released Clovis. Clovis collapsed, and Palpatine tutted, rising to his feet and approaching the man while Amidala crouched down to steady Clovis.

"You said you could explain, Clovis." Palpatine stopped by the man, hands clasped behind his back. "Impress me. What are you going to tell the Senate, hm? The Republic was in dire need of the Banking Clan's assistance. Having exposed their corruption with the help of your friend, Amidala, you were instated as their head. The Republic was sure to have an ally, yet you raised the interest rate, and tried to brutally take over Scipio."

"Dooku blackmailed me!" The words erupted from Clovis. "He staged the attack, then everything got out of control."

"Convenient to place the blame on a dead man," Palpatine murmured, turning his head ever so slowly to look down on Clovis.

"I trust him," Amidala proclaimed.

"I see." He turned his attention to the Naboo senator. "And you are sure that your judgment in this matter is unclouded? I understand you two were quite close, once."

"That has nothing to do with this." Her hand jerked from Clovis's shoulder, and Clovis grasped after it before letting his hand fall.

"I understand that, my dear, but you know the Senate. Your testimony may damage Clovis's case. What were you even doing, meeting with a traitor?"

"But you control the Senate!" she argued, rising to her feet. Inwardly, Palpatine smiled.

"Padme," Clovis warned her, but she was not done.

"I met with a traitor because Clovis offered to turn himself in. He means to help."

"Did he now. Do you think he would have done it?" Palpatine questioned. "He has repeatedly proven that he is interested in self-preservation."

Amidala faltered, posture weakening, but she squared her shoulders. "Even if he made a wrong choice, he's still a good man. One bad choice does not define him."

"But it's not one bad choice, is it. Tell me, Rush-are you a good man?"

"No." Clovis spoke softly, and bowed his head.

"Rush, you can't believe that!" She placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at her. "You've saved me, more than once. Does that count for nothing?"

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been in danger," Clovis sighed. "Padme, I love you. But that doesn't change what I've done."

He struggled to his feet, pushing away her hand. "'Well Emperor, what is your offer?"

Palpatine glided over to his chair and settled on it. "Who said anything about offers?"

"Please," Clovis grimaced. "I know when a negotiation is underway. I will stand trial. Though you may not believe it, Padme is right. I was going to turn myself in. But I ask that you keep her out of this."

"I see." Palpatine placed his hands on the armrests. "If this is a negotiation, as you say, then what are you offering? You were going to come in anyway, you want Amidala kept out of the proceedings. What are you offering the Empire?"

"My willing services, of course." Clovis straightened himself. "You could execute me, or lock me up for treason, but you're a practical man, and so am I. My skill set may not be as...direct as Darth Vader's, but I assure you-I can assist you in ways he cannot."

While Amidala hurriedly whispered at Clovis to rethink the situation, Palpatine regarded Vader. If Dooku had said that, Vader would have cracked, revealing the slave boy underneath. He was always too sensitive to slights, but that worked in Palpatine's favor. That Vader was stoic underneath his hood was shocking, to say the least. Palpatine closed his eyes and began the process of probing Vader.

Vader jerked at the touch in the Force, but opened his mind. _Master_. Palpatine did not acknowledge him, but started looking. If the two senators were nice enough to give him time to ensure Vader was not threatening him, he would take it. Vader was usually overflowing with rage, burning darkly in the Force. Currently, however, doubt and turmoil flooded his mind. This was not Vader at all.

_Skywalker!_ Now Vader flinched, and Palpatine seethed. How convenient for this boy, to slip back and forth. This would not do.

But he also felt relief, almost giddy. To think he had been worried about this whelp! A slave boy, who still refused to embrace the power that Palpatine offered? Pathetic.

Palpatine opened his eyes and smiled congenially. Amidala and Clovis stopped talking, noticing his attention on them. "That is a generous offer, Clovis. It shall be so. You will go to the Republic Judiciary Detention Center, and tomorrow make your case. Unless the Senate as it stands has serious objections, you will fulfill your debt to the Empire working on a special project of mine."

Palpatine motioned to the guards. "Now go. Vader and I have things to discuss."

Clovis bowed, manacles restricting his usually elegant movement. "Thank you, Emperor."

"Yes, thank you, Emperor," Amidala gritted out.

A guard stepped forward and herded the two past Vader to the door, but Amidala turned and addressed Palpatine, "This has been your plan all along, hasn't it. From long before the day you used me and the people of Naboo to make you chancellor."

"Don't be crass, my dear." He lazily lifted a hand. "Though now that you mention it, I suppose I should show my gratitude. Wait outside my office. Darth Vader will escort you to your apartment. Coruscant is not a safe place, after all."

She scowled, but her face went pale. The guard corralled her towards the door with Clovis shooting worried glances at her. Good. Let them assume the worst.

At a nod from him, the other guards trailed out as well, until only he and the boy remained. He dropped to one knee before Palpatine.

"What is your bidding, my master?" His voice had lost the lower quality. Another sign of his weak resolve.

"Don't play games with me, boy!" Palpatine stalked to the kneeling form and ripped the hood off his head, light brown hair fluffing with the movement. "Look at me."

When he hesitated, Palpatine raised his hands and zapped him. The boy gasped, his metal hand pushing against the floor to support himself. Palpatine lowered his hands. "Look at me!"

Haltingly, the boy raised his eyes. Blue eyes.

"Anakin Skywalker." Palpatine shocked him again, and stopped. "What was it you said?"

Another zap, another gasp. "I remember. 'That name no longer holds any meaning for me.'"

Zap. Gasps. "Then why am I looking at him now?"

Anakin lay crumpled at his feet. "Have you forgotten our task so soon, my apprentice? The Republic was weak. As the Empire grows, we will spread justice throughout the galaxy. Unless you think you can do better. Do you think you are strong enough to strike me down?"

Anakin shook his head. He rasped, "No, my master."

"Good, good." Palpatine shocked him again, longer, longer. When he stopped Anakin curled on the ground, and Palpatine reached into Anakin's unguarded mind. It was time for the apprentice to reveal his secrets.

Images flashed before him, thoughts, snippets of memories. Dead Jedi. A choked clone trooper. Clovis in pain. Delusions of saving people. Darth Vader's new body-there was revulsion there. Palpatine reveled in that revulsion, feeding back his pleasure into his apprentice, stoking that ember of anger that was always there.

"I see you have doubts."

Palpatine returned to his chair. "We can rule the galaxy, my apprentice. Think of the precious good you will do."

The slave gingerly lifted himself back up to kneel. Palpatine growled, "But if you have doubts, you will be replaced."

* * *

When the door to the "Emperor's" chamber opened, Padme turned immediately to leave, trusting him to follow. Clovis had already left with two of the guards, while other guards stood silently in the hallway with her, waiting for Palpatine's private conference with his assassin to be over.

Now that assassin was going to take her home.

If the guards hadn't been with her, Padme would have run, tried to escape. Even though she knew he was a Sith, she had to hope that people could survive. She hadn't heard from any of the Jedi she knew, and she feared the worst. Seeing how he had brought in Clovis-her heart clenched. Everything had been fine, Clovis willing to pay for his crime and maybe one day help take power from Palpatine. Then Darth Vader ripped into their lives.

She avoided looking at the being next to her. The lift was fast, slipping down the building and treating the two of them to the light show that was the upper city. It would be nice to have a weapon, but she doubted Vader would give her back her gun, but she would manage. She still had a chance to escape. At any point along their path, something could provide a distraction. She had to be ready.

"Do you truly believe in Clovis?"

"What?" She shuffled awkwardly away, confused by the sudden conversation.

Vader repeated himself. "Do you think Clovis is worth saving?"

Mouth open, Padme didn't know what to say.

A muffled boom interrupted her, and the lift jarred to a stop. The lights went out. Padme caught herself against the window. Trapped in a lift with Darth Vader.

Stop, she told herself. Giving in to fear would get her killed. "What was that?"

Vader cocked his head, but didn't answer. Padme willed her heartbeat to slow down, fingers trembling with adrenaline. "We need to get out of here."

They were in between floors. She pushed the button, but to no avail. She scrabbled at the seam between the door and the wall, but the door always slid in at least an inch.

Vader raised a hand, waved it, and the door opened with a metallic groan of protest. At least he wasn't using the moment to kill her. Lifts should not be this foolproof. "Thank you."

Padme set her hands on the higher floor, which came to her waist, and hoisted herself up. The lights on both floors were dark, and the late hour meant few others were in the building. She felt through her pockets, hoping in vain to come across a light source. Nothing.

"Do you have any light?" she asked, eyes straining in the darkness.

"Yes." There were a few scuffles behind her. The sound of a lightsaber igniting.

She gasped and jumped forward, dashing toward the end of the hall. Which she could now see, slightly, in the dim light of the saber.

Padme reached the corner and looked back. Vader still stood by the lift, black robe illuminated by the red saber which he held loosely like a torch. "I apologize. This is the only light I have."

She gave him an incredulous look. "A warning would have been nice."

"I'm sorry." The hooded head looked at her, but she didn't move. He shrugged, then turned to the other side of the hall. "You should go." He jogged away.

Padme leaned against the wall, pulse racing. "Aren't you supposed to kill me? Or at least threaten me?"

"If you were going to be killed, you would already be dead." He paused, but didn't turn around as his low voice answered her. "Consider yourself threatened."

The red glow dimmed, and Padme straightened. "So you're just going to leave me?"

"You are free to go. I trust you can make it to your apartments on your own." He reached the opposite corner. "I do not trust that the guards here will be able to find the perpetrator. Leave the building and you will be safe."

He turned the corner, and Padme was alone in the dark.

"Kriff," she swore. That was fine, but she didn't have a light, and Vader had her weapon. Vader was not going to kill her. Not tonight, anyway. "Wait up!"

She ran, turned the corner, caught up to him. The two jogged down the hall. "What's the plan?"

"The plan?" His voice sounded different. "Find the bomber, kill the bomber. And you are supposed to go home."

She shook her head. What was it Palpatine had said? 'Brutal but effective.' "Maybe I would have if you had something more than a lightsaber for light. I'm not going to trust that my path will be empty of enemies. Do you still have my gun?"

"Your path was clear," he grumbled, but slowed. From within his robes he slipped out her blaster pistol, which he had confiscated when arresting Clovis. Padme sighed at the weight in her hand. "Stay behind me."

They jogged farther into the building, and down a few floors, to the core. When Vader began to slow, Padme followed his lead. "Stay quiet," he whispered, and something about it niggled at her brain. Curses from ahead distracted her from the thought.

"Someone's here!"

Blaster bolts sizzled down the hallway. Padme jolted backward, unready for the attack. But nothing hit her, as Vader deflected bolt after bolt, slowly advancing down the hallway.

"Blast it!"

Padme aimed her gun at where the shooter had peeked around the corner.

"Wait here," Vader said, before creeping down the rest of the hall. Padme nodded, keeping her gun trained. Vader progressed down the hall.

He rounded the corner, and more shots were fired.

"Take this!"

Something collided into Vader and exploded. He flew back against a wall. His lightsaber turned off. Padme raised her arms against the debris that came her way, but it failed to reach her.

Silence. Padme softly padded forward. Was Vader still alive? Did she want him to be?

Stopping before she reached the corner, Padme looked him over. His hooded head was slumped forward, and his robes obscured any sign of breath. She couldn't check him without leaving cover, so she instead peeked around the corner.

An assassin droid, half visible through a hole in the wall, messed with an exposed generator, while a Duros approached the fallen Sith. The Duros glanced over nervously and spotted her. She ducked back. "You going to shoot me, girly?"

"Who are you? What do you want?" She waited, pressed against the wall.

"Apologies, dear lady. The name's Cad Bane. I'm here for him." She peeked to see him gesturing at Vader. "Do me a favor and see if he's alive? He'll probably take more kindly to you waking him than me." He chuckled.

"Why not just kill him?"

"Ruthless, eh?" She saw his shadow move as though to scratch his head. "Worth more alive, girly. Might not even be alive."

The shadow moved again, then something rattled across the floor. She tensed, but Bane called out, "If he's alive, plug him with this. I won't shoot you. Be quick!"

Some kind of tranquilizer rolled into view. Padme hesitantly picked it up.

"Do it before he wakes up! That blast wasn't very strong," the Duros prodded her.

This would solve some problems. Darth Vader may be replaceable, but his absence would open a chink in the Emperor's plans and armor for a time. "What would your buyer do with him?"

"As soon as we get him to my ship, he's going to be frozen in carbonite." Bane chuckled again. "My buyer isn't stupid enough to take chances."

It wasn't the most humane, but this was Darth Vader. Being frozen in carbonite was a better fate than most would give him. Still, she hesitated.

She hesitated too long. From the corner of her eye, the black figure of Vader shifted, then ignited his lightsaber. He burst into action.

"Kriff. Stop that, shoot him!" Bane yelled at his ally, and Padme shifted from safety to watch in horror as Vader streaked down the hallway towards the bounty hunters, Bane retreating while shooting back at Vader. Blaster bolts reflected in all directions as Bane and the droid struggled to stop him. Vader force-pushed the droid against a wall and crushed its chassis. He raised his scarlet blade and began to swipe down at Bane.

Padme aimed and pulled the trigger.

It hit him in the right shoulder. Vader stumbled and dropped his lightsaber. Bane scrambled to get in another shot, but Vader's left arm snaked out and grabbed him by the neck. Vader lifted Bane into the air, and without looking around reached out his right hand. Padme's blaster slipped through her fingers and into his palm.

"Let's not be too hasty," the Duros croaked, hands pulling at Vader's gloved one. "I can tell you who put the bounty on your head."

Vader loosened his grip, and Padme breathed in sympathetic relief.

"It was a Hutt," Bane gurgled, and Vader released him. Bane crumpled to the floor, coughing.

"Which one?" Vader hissed, and Padme went ice cold. He had sounded rational earlier. Even when he was arresting Clovis he had been angry but rational. Now she could feel his rage permeating the air. Bane hacked more. "Tell me!"

"Jabba." Bane crouched by Vader, and Padme waited for Vader to kill him or Bane to bolt. Neither happened.

"Tell your master I am coming for him." Vader turned, robe swirling to face Padme. He sharply tossed her gun to the floor. "Leave, Senator, before I change my mind."

She wordlessly picked up her gun, and beyond Vader she saw Bane poking at his broken companion before limping away.

As she left, she heard Vader offer one final warning. "It is pointless to resist. May you live long enough to learn that, or die quickly."


	15. Chapter 15

Something was wrong. He felt it the moment he woke up, like drugs dulling his senses. He couldn't be sick. He couldn't even remember the last time he was sick. The closest was when Dooku cut off his arm, but he hadn't been sick. Just recovering from a lost limb.

Maybe he caught a bug on Tatooine. Or he hadn't drunk enough water. His mind blurry, his tongue dry, his skin stiff and radiating heat-he felt awful. He didn't remember much of what happened on Tatooine, other than that it was once again the site of slaughter. His slaughter.

He gagged.

_But Jabba was a slaver_, a voice invaded his mind. The Son's? His Master's? His own? _He made people suffer. He deserved to die, as did those who helped him._

Not like that, he berated himself, heart pounding. That wasn't justice. Was it?

In the other room C-3PO primly scolded one of the service droids in the apartment, one with more basic functions that could only beep in response. Normally that would make him smile, but today he didn't care. No, he did care-he wanted silence.

Still feeling off-kilter, he struggled from the sheets. One twisted around his ankle, and with a growl he ripped it off, the sound of tearing fabric shocking him as it mixed with his harsh breathing.

He paused.

What was he doing? It was just a sheet. He held the sheet up, then set it in his lap to look around the room. He breathed in, out. He usually had more control over his mechanical arm. He couldn't remember the last time he lost control like that. Maybe on Tatooine, he thought bitterly, the blur of blood and vengeance a likely indicator. Nothing good happened on Tatooine.

He felt along the small rip, the threads strangely soft in their frayed state. The galaxy would be a better place with Jabba gone, he knew that. Jabba had treated him and countless others like animals to be bought and sold. He repaid that debt. He slaughtered Jabba like an animal. That was justice. His heart hardened with resolve.

_You have become the very thing you sought to destroy_, a different voice intruded, on the edge of recognition, robbing him of his moment of certainty. _You are blinded by your feelings, giving in to hate and destroying yourself in the process. Turn back_.

His anger spiked at that. He knew it was ironic, hating this alternate voice and its reasoning, but what did it know? It was already too late to turn back. He had to accept that. Clovis knew it, and he hadn't done half the things Anakin had. Padme knew it, too, for all her defense of Clovis. He had seen them arguing, seen her doubt. Would Ahsoka stand up for him if she knew who he was?

He thrust the ruined sheet away from him, body still burning up, and made his way to the fresher. The hope of justice was the only hope he allowed himself.

The door whooshed open. He rested his forehead against the cool metal of the fresher wall. The light turned on, and he groaned. He was ready for today to be over, to return here away from his Master's schemes.

He moved back from the cool wall, moving to start his routine, only to be stopped by the mirror. Mind still foggy, it took a moment for him to register what was different, and why it would normally bother him. He'd never woken up like this before.

Two yellow orbs, worse than Tatooine's suns, glared back at him.

* * *

C-3PO waited on the platform. Master Anakin had sent him out with another holorecording for the gangly Gungan, but Jar Jar wasn't on Coruscant. When he had pointed this out to his creator, Master Anakin had waved C-3PO off with a typical, "Don't worry about it, 3PO. It's all been arranged. Trust me."

He shifted and clanked to look at one end of the station, then the other, body stiff as protocol droids were. "Whatever arrangement he made doesn't seem to be arranged at all!" he huffed to himself.

Various alien species walked past him, boarding the trains that traveled hundreds of feet above the ground of Coruscant. C-3PO hoped his contact would come soon, and then he could return and help his Master.

He hadn't looked at C-3PO, not when delivering the instructions, not when eating, not even when C-3PO showed him the fixed sheet. C-3PO was miffed. Once he got back from delivering this message, he would talk with his Master. Master Anakin hadn't been happy ever since Master Palpatine took over, though C-3PO paid little attention to politics. But Master Anakin was distant, moodier, and C-3PO blamed Master Palpatine. Master Anakin always defended Master Palpatine, but if he would listen to C-3PO...

C-3PO sighed, body stiffly slouching. "He never listens to me."

"What's that then?" a gruff voice asked.

C-3PO bolted upright, servos whirring in place of a palpitating heart. "Pardon?"

Three Weequay, clad in frayed clothing, looked him over, weathered faces frowning. "You the one, goldie?"

C-3PO tilted his head. "I'm not sure I follow. Am I the one what?"

The one to the left nudged the leader. "He's the one, boss, ain't got no restraining bolt."

"I should certainly hope not!" C-3PO reproved them. "My Master trusts me. I would never need something so barbaric as a restraining bolt." He sniffed at them. He wasn't the kind of droid who needed a leash, thank you very much.

"Yeah, that's him alright. He wasn't joking about that personality." The Weequay grunt-chuckled at each other, and C-3PO shuffled uneasily.

"It has been an honor making your acquaintance," he offered, scuffling away slowly and rigidly, "but I really must be going. My Master is expecting me."

"Oh no he isn't." The three surrounded him, cutting off his escape. "We're your ticket off this planet, but you need to be quiet."

"What are you doing?" C-3PO asked as they advanced. He searched the crowds. No one was paying attention to them. He was only a droid after all. But he needed to get back to his Master! He raised his hands. "Help! Help! Someone, they're-"

"Oh, for the love-make him quiet!"

An ion pulse hit him, causing his servos to overload.

"Catch him!"

"Keep that holo on him, fool! Do you want to be killed?"

C-3PO shut down.

* * *

His servos kicked in, and C-3PO sputtered back to consciousness. "Where am I?"

His head jerked from side to side, but he saw nothing. He struggled to raise his hand back to a servicing port on his neck, but it couldn't reach. "My photo-receptor seems to be malfunctioning. Is anyone there? Hello?"

When there was no response, C-3PO sighed. Of course there wasn't.

He sat there, pondering the woes of the universe. A moody Master, being kidnapped (not that he blamed his Master of course, but C-3PO had warned him), and now not being able to see. Why make it impossible to turn on his own eyes? His inner chronometer said it had been weeks since he had left his Master. It was worse than the time that he'd gotten lost coming back from the market. He sighed again. "I seem to be made to suffer. It's my lot in life."

Sounds interrupted his despondent musings, footsteps, a door. A beep and whistle, to which a dreadfully familiar voice answered, "Oh no! Mesa be forgettin the eyes!"

"Noooo," C-3PO groaned before large leathery hands gripped his head. "Unhand me!"

His eyes clicked on, darkness gone, and he twitched away from Jar Jar into two stacked crates. "You overgrown amphibian! You could have broken me!"

_Beep beep whistle_.

C-3PO's stiff face couldn't gape, but he stared pointedly at the blue and white R2 unit in front of him, surrounded by more crates. "I don't know where you learned your manners from, but that is very rude!"

_Beep?_

"And you could show some consideration to a droid that has been kidnapped and shipped like common junk for weeks!" he continued. "I don't even know where I am!"

C-3PO gasped, lifting his hand that had been holding the holo-recording. His stiff fingers were empty.

"I've lost my Master's instructions!" C-3PO wailed. "You!" He clank-whirled on Jar Jar. "The holorecording was for you! Have you seen it? Did those Weequay take it? Or is it still on the train platform they abducted me from?"

"Mesa have it right here!" Jar Jar patted a pocket, frowning at its flatness. C-3PO shook his head at the Gungan. "Eh..."

_Beep beep_. The R2 unit moved back and forth, his beeps echoing around the cargo bay. _Beep!_

"Yousa right!" Jar Jar brightened. "Mesa gave it to Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. It had a lot of a information about some of the Emperor's plans."

C-3PO lifted his head eagerly. "I have completed my mission. If you'll excuse me, I'll be going back now."

"You didn't a see?" Jar Jar flipped an ear back over his shoulder. "Master..." He cast a look at R2. "Go now, shoo! Shoo!"

R2 grumbled beeped, but wheeled out. Good riddance, in C-3PO's opinion.

Jar Jar returned his attention to C-3PO. "Yousa no go. Yousa stayin with me!"

"What?" Organics sometimes shivered for no reason, and C-3PO imagined he'd be doing that now, if he was an organic. "Impossible. Master...he would never abandon me. He needs me!"

"Mesa no say hesa didn't need yousa," Jar Jar soothed, raising his hands. "Hesa say hesa worried for yousa! Hesa think it no longer safe on Coruscant, so hesa hada the Weequay bring yousa to mesa."

C-3PO bristled, posh voice brittle. "If it's not safe for me, it's not safe for him!"

He stomped to the door, locked legs making the journey ridiculous and long, like they always did. He cursed his body, but repented the same moment. Master Anakin had made him, and Master Anakin didn't make mistakes. Except for sending C-3PO away. That was a mistake.

And he'd used ruffians, hired thugs to kidnap C-3PO! C-3PO's servos whined with rage. He tottered down the hall, Jar Jar following and placating. C-3PO realized he still didn't know where he was, other than on a spaceship. He headed opposite of the cargo bay where he'd been, towards where he hoped the cockpit would be, steps clacking. Jar Jar's steps were silent, though he himself wasn't. C-3PO ignored him.

It wasn't a big ship, only seeming big because of the length of his stride, grey metal everywhere studded by doors and rivets. At the end was one final door. It opened at his approach, and he entered the cockpit. "Excuse me? Hello? Excuse me?"

The R2 unit was already there, performing some task or other, along with two humans seated in the piloting seats. They turned to take him in, and he recognized one.

"Senator Amidala, what a pleasure it is to see you again!" he gushed to the woman, dressed in white and with hair in a simpler bun than at the Senate. The man was obviously a Jedi, clothes rough robes and wraps. C-3PO turned to him. "And you must be Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, a pleasure as well. My name is C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. If you would be so kind and fly me to Coruscant? I need to return to my Master."

The two glanced at each other, and C-3PO looked between them. "I'm afraid that isn't possible," the man stated slowly. "We can't return to Coruscant, and we lack the resources to return you by other means." He lifted a hand apologetically. "And we don't know who or where your master is."

"That's quite alright," C-3PO responded. "Once on Coruscant, I can find him on my own."

_Whistle beep boop_. R2 didn't even leave off from his task or turn his dome around, just insulting C-3PO as he was.

"I'll have you know, I am entirely capable of such," C-3PO retorted. "I have served my Master quite successfully, in multiple capacities. He depends on me." He nodded to himself. Master Anakin did depend on him.

The humans shared a look again. "I'm not sure you understand, C-3PO," Senator Amidala fully turned her chair to him. "If we're found by agents of the Empire, we'll be imprisoned, if not worse. By having any connection to us, and the information you brought, you are in danger."

C-3PO cocked his head. "My Master can protect me."

"Not anymore." She shook her head and pressed play on a holoplayer. "Not according to this."

Master Anakin's cloaked figure shimmered into existence, arms folded, hood lower than usual, even his voice strange. "Jar Jar, I have one last mission for you. On this holorecorder is information about the Emperor's plans for Force sensitives and certain strategic worlds. You'll need 3PO's subroutines to decode it-"

C-3PO turned and glared at Jar Jar who shrugged. "Wesa no wanted to wait til you woke up, so wesa hooked you up."

C-3PO turned stiffly back to the recording. "-but unfortunately the situation has changed. I can't give you any more information after this, and since I've sent 3PO to you, I have no secure way of doing so. It's not safe here, or else I wouldn't have sent him. I'll be fine but...I ask you to take care of C-3PO." The figure shuddered from something more than the holo-ripples, hands tightening into fists. "Thank you, both of you, for all your help and hard work. I...wish you well. C-3PO, I'm sorry. I didn't know how else to get you away safely. I...You've served me well. You're free now. I know you don't trust Jar Jar, but he'll keep you safe." The figure fidgeted again. "Goodbye." The holoplayer powered down.

"Oh." C-PO's body froze while he processed. The others, he discerned, had watched him throughout the message, having already viewed it, but he paid them no mind. Questions raced through his mind, his circuits as useless to answer them as any organic's. What changed? Why hadn't Master Anakin told him? What would happen to C-3PO? What would happen to Master Anakin? His head cranked back up to the expectant faces, but all he managed was an, "Oh my."


	16. Chapter 16

The door shut behind him, and Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. He needed a moment alone to meditate on what the droid, C-3PO had unwittingly brought them. Some of it was actionable news, such as locations of prisons and conversion camps peopled with Jedi and Republic sympathizers. However, Obi-Wan lacked the resources to act on it. There was also a comprehensive list of the dead, and though Obi-Wan's heart ached at the number, ached for all the lost companionship, the joy that Ahsoka was alive out there combated despair with hope and purpose. The information had it that she escaped from Mandalore to Dathomir, and who knew where she was now, but Obi-Wan had a plan, and hope.

R2 had plotted a course, and they were currently traveling through hyperspace to Dathomir. Dathomir was not a world the Empire cared greatly about. The Republic had avoided it, and Obi-Wan doubted Emperor Palpatine would infringe on Mother Talzin's territory. He certainly didn't want to. Ahsoka would be safe there for a time, and they would be safe picking up her trail. Probably.

He sighed, heavily this time, and moved to sit on the floor. Palms on knees, eyes closed, even breaths, Obi-Wan settled into the Force. It was hard to listen to, after the fall, death and betrayal poisoning the serenity he yearned for. He hadn't had this much difficulty since his Master's death. But he needed it now, needed to know the will of the Force.

One of the locations of interest had been Mustafar. When he saw the name, the Force whispered to him, a warning or invitation he could not tell. He would have noticed Mustafar anyway, because of Windu. His brow furrowed. Had Ponds assisted in Windu's death, forced to obey his programming prematurely? And had it been Lars to strike the killing blow? His heart clenched at the thought of the friendly man, so at odds with the ruthless murderer Obi-Wan knew him to be. He hadn't had time to think of Lars, with the fall of the Republic and rise of the Emperor, but that didn't erase what he knew-Lars was central to the Force.

Something shifted in the Force around him, like a muscle sliding into place after twisting an ankle, and the niggling unease eased away.

If Obi-Wan went to Mustafar, he would find Lars, and get answers to his questions. Perhaps the man could be brought to the light, and with him on their side the Sith master would finally be revealed and defeated. Perhaps he would be the key to ending the nascent Empire. Obi-Wan felt hope, while the Force seemed to exude pleasure at being understood. It was a sensation he felt rarely, though he wondered if Master Yoda felt it all the time. Probably not, he decided, despite how confident the diminutive Jedi acted.

Obi-Wan remained still, basking in the Force's hum. But it could not last. The Force withdrew, or he withdrew, he could never be sure, and Obi-Wan was returned to a lackluster ship, grey and dull, with artificial lighting that sucked the life out of a person's face.

There was an argument brewing on the other side of the door, he noted, mood dampening. R2 whistling, C-3PO stuttering. That droid stated a lot of opinions, easily switching from one side to the other when someone illuminated a flaw. He had been on board for a week, aware for 12 standard hours, and Obi-Wan was ready to send him back to Coruscant.

He reached out to the Force for some lingering comfort, but there was only him and the silence of the dead Jedi. Obi-Wan quickly stood, anxious to not be alone, and went to embroil himself in the argument of the rambunctious droids.

* * *

It took almost as long as it would have to get to Coruscant, with C-3PO constantly reiterating that fact, but eventually they arrived at Dathomir. Obi-Wan reminded himself to be kind to the droid. It wasn't often your master and creator had pirates kidnap you away to safety. It actually sounded like something Master Qui-Gon would do. Obi-Wan smiled briefly.

"What?" Padme inquired from the pilot's seat, glancing over at him as they descended through pink fog.

"Nothing." He gestured to the deformed trees with giant pods hanging like fruit, though a number of them were deflated. "Be careful of those pods."

She raised an eyebrow, but avoided them all the same. "Anything I should worry about?"

"Something Ventress said about their dead." He pointed to the base of a rocky structure. "Land there."

Padme eased the craft down. "Do you think Ahsoka's still here?"

He shook his head. It had been too long. "Let's hope not. The Night Sisters are not the most hospitable of hosts."

Reluctantly, the two left the cockpit, strolled down the ship's main courseway, to the door to the outdoors. It wasn't that they didn't want to find Ahsoka, but this place sickened Obi-Wan, and looking at Padme he was sure she felt the same.

Padme hit the button, and the ramp lowered. "Stay in the ship," she yelled back to any of the listening denizens, but there was no response.

"We're not staying long." Obi-Wan took a moment to look at their surroundings as well. Something happened since the last time he came here. Desiccated corpses littered the ground between them and the structure where Mother Talzin resided, if she had survived whatever massacre had occurred. "We'll find what information we can on Ahsoka, then leave. No distractions."

"You say that," Padme joked, prompting a wan smile on his face.

"You're thinking of Ahsoka. I, however...Something's coming."

Padme unholstered her blaster and descended the ramp. She looked sickly, the reddish fog and rock reflecting strangely on her skin. Soon enough Obi-Wan could make out what he'd felt, a furtive figure moving from bare tree to bare tree. Padme yelled, "Stop!"

The world seemed to absorb the word, the silence demanding to be heard. The figure stopped while still obscured by the fog. "Who are you?" Padme called again.

"I am brother Kroso," the stranger replied. "I come for answers. The sisters have not visited our side of the planet for many rotations."

Padme looked back at Obi-Wan and he shrugged. She holstered her blaster. "We're here for answers too. Perhaps we can help each other."

"My questions are answered." Kroso stayed where he was, at a distance where Obi-Wan couldn't even see his horns and his voice was a thin sound in the air. "The sisters have been killed, but their killers have left the brothers alone. That is enough."

"The aggressors could come back," Obi-Wan argued. "Though I agree, it is unlikely."

The more he looked at the scene, the more strange details he noticed. Separtist droids mixed in among the dead, Night Sister bodies sliced in a way that suggested an attacker with multiple lightsabers-General Grievous. What had become of the cyborg general and his trophy collection since the end of the war? And what had he been doing on Dathomir?

Obi-Wan descended to the planet's ground, steps crunching on a thin layer of dry soil. "The war is over. And, as I recall, Dathomir has no resources of interest to the Empire, so it is unlikely that you will have any Imperial visitors." That left only the Night Brothers themselves as a resource. Obi-Wan wished he knew what had become of Maul and Opress, but overall to the galaxy the planet was useless. "That is, unless you have any Jedi prisoners. We're looking for our friend-"

Kroso interrupted him. "We have taken no strangers into our village, but before today I saw one ship come to our planet, then leave. A few days later, another ship left."

"Do you know where they landed?" Padme inquired, glancing up at the hazy sky. "Our friend is in danger."

"Here," Kroso motioned at the structure, and Obi-Wan squared his shoulders. He couldn't feel Mother Talzin, but he didn't dare hope that the structure was still vacant. Kroso took a step back. "I will return to my brothers now."

"Of course. Thank you for your assistance," Padme said.

Kroso didn't respond, moving away til the fog swallowed him.

They watched the fog, curious if anything else would appear. When nothing did, Obi-Wan turned to Padme. "Shall we?"

In response, she progressed towards the monolith. A gaping hole was the door, symmetrical, but no less unsettling for its more civilized appearance.

Just as before, the tunnels and caverns were illuminated by glowing green smoke, with plinks of water echoing throughout. When the entryway split, they followed suit, both leaving marks to let them find their way back.

The place still felt malevolent, but it was lessened, an echo of its former hatred. Obi-Wan flicked a hand through the smoke, and it eddied away. There were some carvings on the wall, spartan sleeping rooms along the way, but everything was empty. It was like the planet was going into hibernation, pulse slowing until more people came for it to corrupt. The Dark Side pulled at him, but it was lethargic, weak. Unpleasant, but manageable.

"Uh, Obi-Wan?" Padme's voice came through his comm, still deadened by the atmosphere.

"Yes?" He kept walking slowly, eyeing budding fungus on wetter sections of the caves.

"I think I found a Jedi...thing." Her voice was hesitant, quiet like she wasn't talking to the comm. "I found where Ahsoka was, but she's not here now."

"Are there any datapads? Written messages?" he inquired, hesitating in the dripping hallway.

Padme took a moment to answer, probably checking the area again. "Nothing like that. I think this...box is our best bet."

Obi-Wan guessed, "You mean a holocron?"

"Maybe? It's glowing, and feels warm, looks like it should open but I can't get it open."

"That sounds like a holocron." Obi-Wan turned around. "Alright. Let's head back to the ship and I'll see if I can open it."

Padme agreed, and the two trudged to the craft, feeling alone even when they met up, the barren planet acting as a graveyard for the fallen warriors they stepped around. It was a short distance, Obi-Wan knew, and yet the whole jaunt felt like hours had passed.

The ramp closed, and wordlessly Padme passed him the holocron and went to the cockpit. The engines thrummed to life. Obi-Wan returned to his quarters, doors closing right before the other shipmates got into the hall to ask how it had gone. Their footsteps suggested they had joined Padme up front, so Obi-Wan set to work.

Again, he sat. Again, he cleared his mind. Again, he reached out to the Force.

Though his eyes were closed, Obi-Wan knew the holocron was rising and glowing brighter, pieces floating slowly apart like a shattered asteroid. It was a training holocron, most padawans had one. This was definitely Ahsoka's, he could feel her Force signature even if he hadn't recognized its scuffed appearance.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to a smiling Qui-Gon reviewing lightsaber forms, carefully explaining each move as he performed it, leading the listener through a set of Ataru, one of the few Ataru sets that employed two lightsabers. Ahsoka primarily employed Shien, and Qui-Gon had only used one lightsaber. Obi-Wan had not expected this. He had expected the first thing to be an encoded message from Ahsoka. On the run, and she'd been practicing lightsaber forms.

The holographic Qui-Gon halted and smiled. "You have done well, padawan. As you grow more comfortable with your sabers, these forms will be the backbone of your movement. Do not be restricted by them, however. A wise Jedi knows when to follow the rules, and when to break them." Even in the holo his eyes twinkled. "Following these forms may say your life-your mind may freeze, but your body will know what to do. But following these forms can also kill you. Predictability in a fight is death." Obi-Wan's throat tightened. "But that is why you have me, your instructors, and most importantly yourself, to teach you. Trust your instincts. May the Force be with you."

The image flickered, and replaced Qui-Gon with a Jedi Obi-Wan didn't know teaching Shien dual saber fighting.

"And with you," Obi-Wan said over the new instructor's harsh voice, still seeing Qui-Gon in his mind's eye. The image of Qui-Gon teaching warred with the image of him dying in Obi-Wan's arms, and for a moment Obi-Wan felt his emotions on the precipice of the long-remembered sorrow. But the moment passed, and he could think on his old Master with a smile on his face. It was a good day, then.

Obi-Wan watched through everything recently used on the holocron. Surely Ahsoka wouldn't abandon this for no reason. Training videos. He watched through it all again, perhaps lingering too long on Qui-Gon. He was at a loss.

"Good job," Obi-Wan told himself, sighing as he shifted the pieces back together. It was then that he noticed that it was scuffed on the inside as well. "How did you manage that, Ahsoka?" he beseeched the innocent holocron, exasperated at his padawan. Usually she was meticulous in cleanliness, any item she repaired also getting a quick shine up.

Realization and a smile dawned at the same time. Obi-Wan reopened the holocron, then shifted the pieces around, squinted his eyes, scooted back, shifted them more, angled them to one side, then the other side, then to both sides, and so on.

It took a while to figure out her system. Instead of the standard basic alphabet she was using a Togruta phonetic system and the words crawled around all sides of the holocron, including the top and bottom, but Obi-Wan deciphered her message:

_Hello Master, though it's more likely this is being read by a hermit. I'm fine. Lars saved me. I don't know when you'll find this, if ever, but I'm going back to Mandalore. The clones turned because of a chip in their head, and that chip can be removed. I'm going to save Rex, maybe even the whole squad. I know this is risky. I can hear you telling me not to. But I have to do this, Master. May the Force be with you._

Obi-Wan let the pieces nestle back together and looked over the message. She was right, he would have told her it was too dangerous. This was just like Ahsoka, to escape, and then head straight back into danger. He held the holocron, enjoying the warmth. "At least we're close."

He placed it on his bed and headed for the cockpit, trying to ignore his fear that they were too late.


	17. Chapter 17

a/n: quote from 7.12, Ahsoka (cough spoiler cough). And a few other quotes, mostly from the movies. It's like 9+quotes . As always, you can do a movie/clone wars bingo.

Also, this has another battle scene near the end, so you're warned.

* * *

As usually happened when around her Master, something else was going on. Ahsoka had no idea what had him looking over his shoulder physically and in the Force, and now was not the time to figure it out.

The ragtag group had found her, probably thanks to Master Obi-Wan and the fact that it was well known on Mandalore that a horned shadow stalked the Imperials, taking them down one by one. The rumors originally said that she was a crazed Jedi that was eating their bodies, but when the horned shadow was accompanied on missions by troopers the rumors changed to a crazed Jedi raising zombies. The rumors conflated her and Maul, which irked her, but not as much as Master Obi-Wan's mother-hen act.

"Absolutely not." He sliced a hand through the air. "It's too dangerous."

Ahsoka glared at him. "I don't know what you think I've been doing here, but we are way past 'too dangerous' now. I'm not stopping."

"Neither are we, Sir." Dogma stood beside her. "Not until we have the Captain."

Master Obi-Wan huffed angrily, putting a hand over his face. "Why do I feel like I'm talking to a wall?"

"What's your plan?" Padme inquired, approaching their makeshift battle table.

Everything was makeshift. They were located in the same tunnels where Ahsoka first saw Maul. The tunnels were surprisingly clean. Their main downsides were being dim and empty. She could do with more stuff. She and the few troopers she was able to rescue so far had set up a perimeter alarm, and at the center of their zone was a droid capable of removing the chips from the troopers. The setup had worked so far, though Ahsoka almost felt like she was stuck on a ship in hyperspace, always surrounded by gray walls, only leaving in the dead of night to strike at small groups of troopers, tranquilizing one, then running away dragging her companion.

Ahsoka hoped to get all the troopers, unlikely as that was. She knew her Master was right-soon enough Palpatine would send Darth Vader or these "Inquisitors" Master Obi-Wan described, and that soon could happen at any moment. She had left men behind before, led them to their deaths. It wasn't what she'd expected from being a Jedi, and failing her men was the worst pain she had discovered in her short life, but she knew when to pull out. She wouldn't risk everyone she'd saved on a suicide mission, and they didn't have the resources to rescue them all. But there was one trooper that she couldn't leave behind, and the 5 troopers she'd rescued agreed. They all knew what it was to have that one brother you couldn't leave behind, and though she would never share the same camaraderie as them, Ahsoka felt that was close enough. Jedi were forbidden attachments, but she was just a padawan. She had her limits.

"This mission will be trickier than previous ones," Ahsoka started, smoothing out the roughly drawn map. "The only times we've gotten a trooper out was while attacking in these two areas." She pointed to where the Imperials patrolled the spacedocks rather than right by the palace. Dogma had informed her that those locations had important supplies in the warehouses, like the one she'd escaped from, hence the Imperial patrols. "However, Rex has been used almost exclusively for the palace, I'm not sure why."

"Most of us rotate regularly," Jessie inserted. "It's the trouble ones that they keep close, as well as the higher ups. It could be either reason."

"We'll infiltrate the palace through this entrance," Dogma stabbed the map with his finger. "There are only two troopers, but it also has a camera. We take it out, then knock out the troopers. Fox will watch over them, and when we get back we'll transport them and the Captain to the ship."

"Since we don't know the location of the Captain, we'll be in two teams. One will get the droid," Jessie motioned at R2, "to a command console. The other will use the ventilation shafts to head to a central location, so that when we know his location they can head straight for him. The shafts may have security measures, so they'll take a couple ion pulsers in case R2 is unable to get them down. Each team will exfiltrate as soon as they have completed their objective. Thanks to your ship, we'll have enough room for everyone." He nodded to Master Obi-Wan. "The Commander's ship isn't big."

"I'll lead the retrieval team, Dogma and Kano." Ahsoka ran her eyes over the map, but she'd looked at it so much the exercise felt useless. She knew the building as well as she could, foremost from the small time she'd worked inside it, and now from this map drawn from old building blueprints. "Master Obi-Wan, you're heading the droid team, Jesse and Coric."

He considered the map. "I daresay it will be good to have Rex back. What's the backup plan?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "The armory is close to the command console you're headed for. Get some grenades, blow that section as a distraction once you're out. But that's only if we're coming out hot."

Padme gave a quick nod. "What do you need me to do?"

Ahsoka faltered, glancing between the ex-senator and Jedi. More people was good, but this needed to be stealthy. "We need two people ready with the ships. You and Jar Jar will take care of that." Padme nodded acquiesence, looking a little disgruntled at the sinecure.

Jesse drew their attention back. "We only get through this together. We will save three more brothers tonight, and come back when we're stronger to save more. Now get prepped and be ready in 4 standard hours!"

"Sir yes sir!" The troopers minus one, Coric who was on watch, went to look over their weapons silently.

"I'll head back to the ship, take the medical droid with me." Padme moved to exit, but Ahsoka stopped her with a gentle hand.

"You should probably wait half an hour. Right now is when shipments usually come in, so there'll be more Imperials than usual, even at the dock we're using."

"That's good to know." Padme sighed. "I'll check in on the medical droid, then, and hope Jar Jar and C-3PO aren't doing anything crazy."

Ahsoka let her go, hoping the same.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Master Obi-Wan griped, overlooking their meager force.

Ahsoka did too, but she forced herself to roll her eyes. "You always say that, Master."

He ghosted a smile. "You've accomplished something remarkable here, because of your faith in the troopers. I'm proud of you. I've always been proud of you."

Master Obi-Wan placed a hand on her shoulder. "I wish I could have been here sooner, but you've proven quite resourceful. Although I will always be willing to help you, I think this might be your trials. Not just this, but everything lately would be a trial. If we ever find Master Yoda..."

"Really?" Her whole purpose had been to become a Jedi knight. To achieve that after so long was something, right?

He nodded, a weary smile stretched over his face. "Yes."

Ahsoka waited for excitement, but it didn't come. She felt nothing. The words had meaning, but they meant nothing. Her thoughts turned to Rex and the other troopers, and immediately she felt a hopeful desperation ripping from her heart. But becoming a Jedi Knight? Maybe the excitement would come later. She doubted it.

Ahsoka looked away from him. "It won't be the same."

"No." She could hear the hardness in his voice. "It won't."

* * *

At the appointed hour they slipped from their crypt. Padme had spirited the medical droid and other supplies back to their ships, and all that remained was the rescue of Rex.

In front of the hidden 5 troopers, 2 Jedi, and droid was the entrance, troopers and camera surveying silently. Jesse lined up a shot on the camera with a mini ion gun, and nodded to her. Coric and Dogma aimed their blasters at the troopers. She counted down, tapping on Jesse's shoulder, and after the last tap she waved her hand and he fired. The sound was covered by the decorative stone she shifted a dozen feet to the troopers' right. The two troopers glanced at each, then at the item, but failed to notice the inoperative camera.

She motioned to Coric and Dogma, and they fired, expanding blue circles hitting the guards. The guards fell.

Ahsoka and Master Obi-Wan dashed forward and caught them. With the help of the free troopers, they carried them to the artful shrubbery they'd been hiding in, and Fox cuffed them. Ahsoka grabbed a code cylinder off one of them, and approached the entrance, the others falling in behind her except for Fox.

"Ready?" she whispered, and with the group's assent she opened the door.

They swiftly filed in. "Can you feel that?" Master Obi-Wan asked as her team set to opening a ventilation shaft while his headed down the hall.

"I do feel...something," Ahsoka ventured, probing the Force with a frown. It did not feel as empty as she would hope, considering the circumstances. "It feels similar to when Maul was here, or when we were on Mortis."

_Clang!_

She jerked back to their surroundings to see Kano and Dogma gingerly lowering the grate to the ground.

"We got the shaft open, sir," Dogma reported.

"Alright." Ahsoka turned to Master Obi-Wan and forced the looming presence of the Dark side from her mind. "We'll just need to be quick, is all. May the Force be with you!"

"And with you," he replied as she wriggled into the hole, followed by Dogma and Kano.

"Sir, we need to move!"

"Coming."

Ahsoka ignored the droid team and crawled along the passage. Dogma and Kano trailed her, armor clunking dully against the shaft. They crept in silence, and stopped whenever they heard boots passing below.

Most of the journey to the center was a straight shot. At one point the shafts curved around a room rather than going through it, and at another there was a five foot raise. Thankfully, there were no welded grates, alarms, or other security measures in the shafts. Nothing impeded their progress, and they reached their appointed stakeout with ease. With the metal warming below her, Ahsoka agreed with her Master's sentiment: she had a really bad feeling about this.

Dogma and Kano settled into the wait, and Ahsoka was glad for her diminutive size. There was enough room for them. Barely.

Ten minutes passed, as did two patrols below their chosen spot. Ahsoka was avoiding thoughts of wanting to move when the light on her comms flashed. She listened carefully to the corridor below, barely visible through the grate a few feet in front of her. There was no one.

She tapped her comms. "You found him?"

"Affirmative," Jesse's voice came through. "He's been imprisoned for an infraction in 2a."

"Kriff." Better than the barracks or in a meeting, worse than on patrol. Did that mean he was fighting the chip? "We'll head down there. I think we're going to need that distraction."

"Roger that, sir. Do we need to do anything else?"

She began to crawl, and the two troopers followed her. "Negative. We should be able to open the cell on our own. Focus on creating a distraction, then get out."

"Ahsoka," Master Obi-Wan's voice interrupted. "It appears that Darth Vader arrived on this planet today-"

Boots sounded below. Ahsoka hurriedly muted the comms, and the three of them paused.

"Did you hear something?"

"Probably just your stomach. I told you not to eat that soup."

They weren't troopers, but she couldn't tell if they were from the GAR turned Imperial Army, or Mandalorian natives. Probably Mandalorian government officials, she decided, thankful for their disinterest. As soon as their voices and steps faded, Ahsoka proceeded with her two shadows.

This was trickier, as the cells were below the main floor in a cavernous room, floors of them encircling the large room, peering at each other. Who knew how many other prisoners were nearby, and how those prisoners would react?

They reached the junction where it dropped down, and Ahsoka unmuted her comms. "Master? Come in, Master. I had to cut you off and missed the rest of your message."

It took a moment, but Master Obi-Wan spoke again, "Just hurry."

"Roger that." Ahsoka nodded to the troopers. "You heard him."

They positioned themselves. One by one Ahsoka lowered them to the appropriate floor, and held on until they got a grip. She hopped into the dark, the Force slowing her down enough to not dislocate her shoulders when she grabbed the thin, painful edge of the appropriate floor.

"Careful there, Commander." Dogma helped pull her up, worming back at the same time. "The exit's right here. We won't have much time once we bust him out."

"Can you see him from here?" She scooted along the narrow shaft behind him. Up ahead she could hear Kano working on opening the grate.

"Negative."

"Okay." Ahsoka took a breath. The air down here was more moist compared to the palace proper, or maybe that was just her. "We knew it was unlikely we'd be able to take the shafts back. Once we get him, we'll head for the lifts. Kano, you'll be carrying Rex. Dogma will take point. Take out any cameras and people you see. If it's a trooper or a Mandalorian, use stun."

Dogma shifted uneasily, his foot accidentally scraping her hand as he looked back at her. "Sir, I want to save them as much as you do. But they will kill us on sight. They have orders."

"I am not the one who is going to kill them," she stated softly.

Dogma exhaled. "It's like Umbara all over again, except they won't stop..."

He cut himself off. Kano's tinkering plinked through the shaft. Ahsoka could feel shudders from his work through the metal.

Kano paused. "We ready?"

Dogma coughed out a low, "Yes."

Ahsoka shrugged to herself in the cramped quarters. "Ready as we'll ever be."

She was about to see Rex for the first time since Order 66. No matter what happened, how he reacted, she was ready.

The grate popped off, and Kano awkwardly held onto as he dropped to the floor. Dogma followed suit, then Ahsoka. The air was chilly against her skin, and with a slight drift to it that happens in large spaces.

"We have five minutes before their next patrol," Dogma warned. The guards in question were probably by the lifts, if they stuck to routine.

"This way. Act natural." Ahsoka waved and led the way to 2a. They walked on what was essentially a catwalk, a walkway only a few feet wide with cells on one side and a railed off drop on the other. The cells glowed dimly, blue-tinted glass in place of bars, prisoners in place of people. Most of the them were empty. Some of the few prisoners they passed were sleeping at this time, and those that were awake either didn't know or didn't care that she was a fugitive of the regime. Had they noticed the change?

At the end of the row was Rex's cell. He sat on the cot, elbows on knees, hands clasped in front of him, head down. He was still in his armor, scuffs marring the white laminate, his blue captain's designation sticking off his left shoulder. Without looking up, he spoke, "If you think you'll have better luck now, you're wrong."

"I certainly hope I'm not wrong," Ahsoka responded while adopting her usual posture of arms crossed, weight shifted, eyeing Rex.

He stiffened. "Commander?"

"I'm here." She felt tear pricks, but she could not afford that right now. She blinked, and glanced around to make sure they were still alone. With a voice slightly strained, she commanded, "Get him out."

Kano nodded, but as he lay hands on the door Rex made a strangled noise that sounded like "No!"

Rex's trembling left hand rubbed his forehead as though combating a headache even as his right hand grasped uselessly for a blaster. "Good soldiers follow orders," he gritted out, and stilled with murderous eyes on her.

"Dogma!" Ahsoka warned.

"Ready, sir!" Dogma shouldered his weapon and aimed. She kept her hands off her weapons and forward.

Rex stood purposely, closing the distance between himself and the door, keeping himself at a slight crouch. "You two are in violation of Order 66."

"Here we go!" Kano called.

The door popped open. Rex pounced at Ahsoka. She gasped and scrambled back straight into the railing. Rex landed awkwardly and grabbed her leg only to be stunned by Dogma. The railing dug into her back, her heart pounded wildly, and she couldn't get enough air.

She knew this would happen. The fact that he fought the chip for a moment made him an outlier, actually. No one else had. "What have they done," she gasped.

Kano ripped off a glove and felt Rex's neck. "We're good to go. Help me get him up." This jarred Ahsoka back into the moment. Just pretend he's unwell, she told herself. It was the truth, after all. She bent down and grabbed Rex's left arm while Dogma grabbed his right. Together they lifted him and helped Kano position Rex over his shoulder.

Boots echoed again. Dogma quickly took the lead and Ahsoka the tail. They ran and turned the corner for the lifts. Right into the Imperials. It was a pair of Imperial officers, uniforms neat and hands gloved.

"Hey you!"

"Stop!"

Dogma's blaster went off twice, with a third shot aimed at a camera he'd just noticed.

"Turn right!" Ahsoka directed. "But be careful! That wasn't the patrol from the lifts."

"Roger." Dogma flicked the setting on his blaster. They turned into the hall with the lifts. Two troopers were already aiming their blasters down the hallway. Ahsoka leapt over her companions when the troopers shot, reflecting the bolts. Dogma fired off another pair of shots. Kano slogged forward with the Captain still over one shoulder as the troopers fell. He fumbled and pressed the button. Ahsoka and Dogma caught up and looked around, nervous for any others to be drawn by the shots.

"Come on, come on!" Kano muttered, and Ahsoka only barely avoided the mantra herself. No one else came before the lifts opened and they flooded in. She pressed the button for the main floor, and the lift sped upward.

"We're on our way," she prompted through her comms. "How's that distraction coming along?"

"Not good!" Jesse's voice mingled with the unmistakable signs of battle. "We'll meet you at the lifts."

"What?" She stared at her companions. "The armory isn't anywhere near here."

Before they could answer, the lift slowed. They all prepared themselves to dash and shoot as soon as the door opened, Ahsoka in front. The doors opened.

True to Jesse's statement, droid team was there, taking cover in a side hall and pinned down by a bunch of Imperials, troopers and otherwise in the main hall. When Obi-Wan caught sight of them he called out, "Let's go!" and leapt into the mainway to cover their run.

They dashed out of the lift, Dogma taking pot shots and Ahsoka covering the others. Twenty feet, ten feet, then they were at the side hall. "Got them, General!" Jesse yelled, and Obi-Wan retreated. As they ran Ahsoka noticed that sirens had been blaring ever since they reached this floor.

"The distraction?" she panted.

"I think we're doing a great job of that," Obi-Wan huffed from the back of the group.

"It should go off soon," Coric inserted.

They reached a conjunction and headed for their exit. Ahsoka expected blast doors to close off and section them in, but they weren't on a ship. The benefits of being planet-side.

She tapped her comm and held it up to her face. "Padme, we're going to need a pick-up. Meet us at the Kryze Memorial Ground in the garden."

"On my way," Padme answered, and the group picked up their pace. Another bunch of Imperials intercepted them, but they were no match for the desperate Jedi and troopers. Another corner, and their goal sat at the end of their last hallway. With the state of alarm, it was most likely the door had been automatically locked shut again as part of the security measures, and she couldn't remember what happened to the code cylinder. "R2, get that door open!" Ahsoka clipped.

R2 beeped as he zoomed past her.

"Did you know he carries people?" Obi-Wan commented between huffs.

"Getting out of shape, Master?" They reached the door, R2 still in the midst of hacking. She was glad they had a droid who could hack faster than any of them.

"I've been on the same tiny ship for months now," Obi-Wan argued. "There's not much room for exercising."

"We'll make sure you get your exercise, sir," Dogma said. "Need to be up to regs."

A muffled explosion signaled that the charges had finally gone off. The door in front of them slid open and they tumbled out. The light from the building extended 15 feet before it got too dark to see, but through the gardens in front of them was an area perfect for Padme and Jar Jar to land at.

"Fox, move out!" Ahsoka called.

"Yessir. I've got Joc, if someone can get Boro."

"I got him," Coric said, shouldering his gun and lifting his brother from the ground.

They took to the darkness, flitting through bushes, flowers, grass. She wasn't entirely sure what all they stepped on, but this garden was not going to look pretty in the morning, particularly where R2 rolled. They were almost to an area of the gardens that was a large, flat circle of grass surrounded by two rings of trees.

"Incoming combatants, sirs!"

Ahsoka glanced back. Humanoid shadows followed them, gaining now that her group had reached their goal. "Stop at the treeline, we'll hold them off there. As soon as our rides come, you get on. Obi-Wan and I will cover your backs."

"Sir yes sir!"

The trees were stubby things, distinct from the bushes only in that the leaves were bunched higher, leaving foot-wide, rough trunks for them to hide behind. The trees would have to do. The group stopped between the two rows of trees, unwilling to expose their backs in case Padme and Jar Jar arrived after sky-bound Imperial reinforcements. The unconscious troopers were deposited on the ground and leaned up behind trees, their hands cuffed just in case. R2 went into the field, scanner popping out of his dome. Everyone else took cover, peering around the trunks.

The Imperials were backlit by the building, but only dimly. Ahsoka guessed there to be at least six, maybe even ten. Her montrals weren't much help here either, the rush of boots mixing together so she could not distinguish individuals. She squinted, willing her eyes to see more, and noticed that something was different about one of them. Most of the shapes had two distinct legs and arms, but this one was either a different species or wearing non-regulation clothing.

Ahsoka felt a headache coming on, and like she was cold. She stuck a hand out to steady herself, hand awkwardly extending until it reached the tree trunk she could barely see. The tree didn't feel any colder, nor the air. The Dark Side.

"He's here," Obi-Wan stated grimly.

"Who, Master?"

He ignored her question, instead barking out, "Focus fire on the flanks. Leave the middle to me and Ahsoka."

"Yessir!" the troopers chorused, aiming at their foes. When Ahsoka followed their line of sight, she saw the strange figure ignite a lightsaber, a scarlet scratch in the dark. The troopers shot, and battle was joined again. The red lightsaber bounced some of the troopers' shots back.

"With me, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan commanded. She dashed from her tree to his, breaking with every tree. Shots were now coming in from their enemies, blaster bolts illuminating the straight trees around them in unnatural green light. The troopers kept up their own fire, while Obi-Wan and Ahsoka ignited their lightsabers to reflect as many of the blasts as they could.

"What's the plan, Master?"

"We need to take-down the Sith, perhaps bring him in for questioning. Unless he's too dangerous to be left alive." She could see the ghost of Obi-Wan's sleeve rise in the light from their sabers as he reflected another bolt. "You and I will attack him once he's closer. If we can take him, we'll try to bring him alive. If not, we hold him off until the troopers are on the ships."

"Alright Master," Ahsoka gritted as she reflected two more bolts. "You're just doing this because Sith are your speciality."

"I have fought more Sith than you have." Their enemies got closer. She jumped to the side to reflect a bolt headed for the end of their line.

"Thanks sir!"

Ahsoka saluted back her welcome, forgetting that they were in darkness. She tucked and rolled to regain her spot, but the Imperials kept shooting at the end of the line. Her movement had given away how far their line extended, and from the fact Obi-Wan wasn't calling for her, she bet they were concentrating fire on his side as well, keeping the Jedi separate.

She deflected a cascade of bolts, panting.

"Down, sir!"

She ducked, and somebody threw something over her. A bolt from the enemy sizzled over her head in response, and the person cried out. She jumped up and immediately blocked more incoming fire. She heard another trooper moving to help the injured, but she didn't turn around.

The blast made her wish she had, the grenade blinding her in the same moment that it displayed the enemy brilliantly. She closed her eyes, after-images of screaming humans flashing in white and blue. Her stomach turned. She reached out with the Force to detect incoming fire, but none came.

_Beep bee whorl!_

"The ships are here, sirs!"

Ahsoka shook her head to clear it, the muffled announcement barely making it through her hearing. "Go! Obi-Wan and I will cover you."

The after-images were fading, and the thrum in her montrals was lessening. She side-walked to Obi-Wan's blue lightsaber, keeping an eye towards whatever attackers remained. At first she thought they were all down, bushes the only lumps between them and the palace. There was a red glow. She thought it was something burning from the grenade, but realized it was the lightsaber.

"But they usually turn off," she muttered to herself, in time for its owner to rise.

"Get ready!" Obi-Wan settled into his favored stance, left arm extending forward while his right held his lightsaber parallel to his left arm. Ahsoka held her shoto in front, with her right lightsaber held behind. She crouched.

The figure stood still, eyeing them. Behind her Ahsoka heard the two spacecraft land, and the troopers clambering on. As if sensing the moment slipping away, the figure hefted its lightsaber and charged.

"Together!" Obi-Wan called.

She and Obi-Wan rushed forward, Ahsoka holding her sabers to the side away from her body. When they were within ten feet, she leapt up, bringing both sabers to bear on the figure. He caught her on his red one one-handed, his block forcing her to flip through the air.

She whirled around to see Obi-Wan had engaged right after her. The two bandied strikes and parries. The person was wearing a thick black cloak, gloved hand visible at the base of his lightsaber. He struck a downward slice and Obi-Wan jumped back, arms wide.

Ahsoka barreled back into the fray, swinging her sabers in a coordinated attack. She expected the man to twirl away like Maul had, but instead he reached a hand back and pushed her away with the Force. She stumbled back as Obi-Wan stabbed at the figure, but with a flick of the figure's lightsaber, Obi-Wan's was easily deflected to the side. She faltered to her feet. The figure kicked Obi-Wan in the chest and Obi-Wan fell to the ground. Ahsoka hobbled forward, still disoriented, and activated her lightsabers. The figure swiftly raised his lightsaber in both hands to bring down upon her Master.

"No!" she yelled, and stabbed at the figure's back. He shifted his saber to catch hers. It caught the first, diverting it to a nick in his side, making him grunt, but when he twisted to face her the shoto caught on his right forearm.

Sparks leapt up from his right arm, and she thought the saber would fall, but his left hand held on. She caught a glimpse of a yellow, hate-crazed eye narrowing on her. He swung round at her, and she hand-springed back, burnt leaves sizzling in the wake of her sabers. She stopped fifteen feet away, caught her breath as she looked up.

"Ahsoka, to the ship!" Obi-Wan yelled, back on his feet, lightsaber pointed at the Sith.

The figure startled for a moment, from the shout, from the pain, she didn't know. She bolted forward, and when the figure swung she somersaulted over and kept going. Obi-Wan joined her when she passed him at the trees, the two sprinting side by side over the grass. The troopers were on the ships, with a trooper waiting on each ramp. The ships themselves were hovering, slowly rising into the starlit sky, the doors beacons in the night. Ahsoka gathered her strength and jumped, flying through the air and slamming into the ramp.

Through the rushing air, she heard a strangled cry from below. She turned around to see Obi-Wan on the ground, scrabbling to right himself and get his saber between himself and the Sith. "Master!"

She moved to jump back down, but the trooper caught her arm. "Don't, sir."

He quickly aimed his gun at the figure, firing shots and distracting the Sith until Obi-Wan had his bearings. A bolt was reflected back to them, and Ahsoka snapped her shoto on and up to deflect the shot back down. "Still got one on the ground," the trooper yelled to the front of the ship.

Obi-Wan stood and resumed his stance. "Master, come on!" she yelled. "Leave him!"

Obi-Wan didn't, striking at the Sith, dancing away, slicing. She held her breath, gasping when he stumbled under a heavy blow, holding the strut next to her tighter when he lunged forward and the Sith evaded. "Come on. Come on!"

Obi-Wan was flagging. He retreated, but the figure followed-he couldn't jump up without being attack. Ahsoka watched the battle closely, and the next time Obi-Wan circled close to the ships and glanced up she pushed with the Force, the hardest she'd ever done on an organic.

The figure fell, its hood dislodged. Obi-Wan moved to go to the ship, but hesitated. Ahsoka hesitated too, surprise rocking her core. A human male was pushing himself upright, face unnaturally pale, eyes burning yellow in contrast to the red of his saber.

Lars. Sith.

"No," she thought she heard Obi-Wan cry out. Her mind blanked. She'd seen Lars not that long ago, he'd rescued her not that long ago, he was normal, he was good! But the man below stood proudly, hate roiling off of him. Her rescuer, turned monster.

"It was foretold that we would meet again. But not like this," Lars said. His voice was the same, if a little cold. There were dark lines cracking his face around his eyes.

"Mustafar." Obi-Wan stood still, body tensed.

Lars nodded and raised his sparking limb. "You have a task to perform."

Obi-Wan gaped in response. "Obi-Wan knows him?" the trooper asked.

"Yeah, we both do." Ahsoka returned her hand to the strut. "Wait, do you know him?"

The trooper looked at her, but through his helmet she could only guess his expression. "That's Darth Vader."

"No," ghosted from her lips again. Something was not adding up. Even on the run, she knew of Darth Vader's deeds. Lars wasn't that evil. Was he?

"Master?" A polite voice accompanied by clanks broke the moment. She wrenched her eyes from below to see a golden droid approaching her.

"Stay back," the trooper warned, and Ahsoka's mind took a moment to supply that this was Jesse.

The droid ignored him and started waving down at the battle. "Master? Master, it is you, it is you!"

Ahsoka didn't expect any effect, but when she returned her gaze below, Lars had halted, gazing up at the droid. "3PO?" he rasped.

"Oh Master Ani, you can't leave me here!" the droid 3PO wailed. He tried to shuffle past her, but she and Jesse caught his arms so he didn't fall. "I don't think they like me very much, and I don't like them either! And don't say a word about Jar Jar, Master, you very well know my opinion of him."

"His eyes," Jesse murmured. Ahsoka looked closely, and saw that blazing yellow had shifted to muggy blue. Not quite the color they'd been when last she saw them, but better than yellow. The atmosphere felt lighter too, as though the weight of the Dark side had lifted.

"Go, 3PO." Lars looked down to the side.

"I can still help you!" the droid begged. "The R2 unit has instructed me on the unsavory practices of hacking and hot-wiring. I've learned a great many things, seen so many planets you would like. Let me help you, Master!"

Everyone paused to see how he'd react to the droid's plea, and Ahsoka could have sworn the world itself went silent.

She watched him deliberate, one moment, another. He turned away.

"It is too late for me." Obi-Wan took a step forward, hand raised, but Lars thrust a hand at him. Obi-Wan flew from the ground, slammed against the other ramp. Fox pulled him up before Lars gestured with his hands again and that ramp closed. Another, and Ahsoka's closed.

"We're taking off!" Padme's voice crackled over the ship's comms.

"No!" 3PO pointed a stiff hand at the speaker. "I demand you put me down there at once. My Master needs me!"

The sudden acceleration pushed Ahsoka to the side, the droid and Jesse on top. They righted themselves.

"Sorry about your Master," Jesse said, awkwardly patting the droid on the shoulder.

"Why?" 3PO pulled away from them. "He's a good master. I'm sure he'll realize he needs me soon enough. This isn't like him at all!"

"Maybe you don't know your master as well as you thought you did," Jesse tried. Ahsoka left them to it, careening to the open cabin door where she could see the medical droid hovering over Rex and Joc. She strapped in next to Rex's reclined form, feeling the ship jolt now and again, jostling her thoughts over the encounter from her mind. The only thing that mattered now was Rex. The medical droid administered stimpacs and sedatives to the two troopers before buckling in too. Now was not the time from brain surgery. Ahsoka gazed at the face of her friend, limp on the gurney. Breathing. Alive.

"Soon," she promised him as she laid a hand on his face. "You'll be free soon."


	18. Chapter 18

a/n: quotes and whatnot, do yon bingo.

* * *

He paced. He sat. He glanced out the window. He stood. He walked around the table. He tapped its surface. He strode to the window. He laid his gloved hand on it. He rapped it. He turned. He walked to the door. He exited. He stalked down the hall, out the entrance, to stare at the landing pad, the only one near this fortress.

Any moment now. He could sense the Jedi who held his fate in hand, the executioner of Anakin Skywalker, the author of Darth Vader's completion. They had been connected ever since that forsaken planet, and he could feel Anakin's death approaching with every jump through hyperspace the Jedi must be making. It was a faint connection, not enough to betray the Jedi to him, not enough to hasten his metamorphosis. Could the Jedi feel it too? Why couldn't the Jedi hurry up?

He snarled, and with a swirl of his cloak retreated to the cooler interior.

He had been there for weeks, lingering, waiting, biding his time until the Jedi came. He was sure after their encounter that the Jedi would arrive soon after. They would battle, and Anakin Skywalker would burn until only Darth Vader remained. If he prevailed over the Jedi, Anakin Skywalker would still die. He was ready, ready for this uncertainty to be purged from him with lightsabers and fire. Only then would he develop the strength to save the galaxy, first from itself, then from his master. It was the only way.

But the Jedi was late.

* * *

Ahsoka hesitated at the door and looked back at her master. He sat on his bunk, mind already lightyears away from their conversation, from the fact that she and the clones were leaving. It could be a testament to his detachment as a Jedi master, but Ahsoka knew what Obi-Wan was thinking about. If only either of them had answers surrounding Darth Vader, Anakin, Lars. "What are you going to do?"

Obi-Wan's gaze flicked over to her as his hand gripped his beard. "I will do what I must."

* * *

Weeks passed, the Jedi's presence creeping closer. He cursed the distance keeping him from his destiny, that demanded patience when all he wanted was for it to be over, Anakin Skywalker taken from him, only one path remaining. Anakin Skywalker was weak. Darth Vader would do what he could not. He needed that.

An alarm blared.

He ratcheted from his bunk, senses focusing on the only presence that mattered.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was here.

All affectations of patience abandoned, he dashed from the installment out to the blazing heat. The atmosphere was murky, yet he strained his eyes, searching for the first glimpse of the ship bearing the Jedi. Physical sight failing him, he shut his eyes and stretched out in the Force. The Jedi was there, lurking in the sky. There were others with him too, his companions from before-the determined senator, the friendly Gungan, and he can only presume the quippy R2 unit, and hopefully C-3PO-

He crushed the thoughts from his head. One thing mattered, and one thing alone. He knew the Jedi could sense his presence as well, the two of them aware of each other, both waiting for the Jedi to make his move. He clenched his fists. He was tired of waiting!

"Face me!" he yelled to the obscuring clouds, not that the Jedi could hear it.

Still, the Jedi withheld himself from battle. He pictured the Jedi staring down from his portview on the volcanic planet, judgement waiting to be passed. The Jedi had the power, and the Jedi's weakness would only allow Darth Vader to grow stronger! But the Jedi wasn't supposed to show weakness until after the battle, after defeating the remnants of Anakin Skywalker and not killing the monster that remained. The Jedi wouldn't dare ignore the call of destiny, would he?

He felt a lessening in the Force, and knew it to be true. Kenobi was leaving, and with him all the certainty of the Son's visions. His breathing was already heavy, heartbeat fast, his body tuned for battle, but the rage that simmered inside boiled over at the Jedi's act.

"Coward." He paced the landing pad, jerky movement and as he scrutinized the sky. The feeling lessened again. "Coward!"

He ran for the fighter that always lay there, covered in soot and metal almost too hot to touch, and slid into the cockpit. He adjusted the controls, settled into the seat-

There was a pop in the Force, a ship jumping into hyper-space, and Kenobi's presence was gone. "No!"

He slammed the control board. "I'm ready!" Slammed it again. "Isn't this what you wanted?" Slammed it again. "Isn't this my destiny?" Slammed it again.

The last hit elicited a shower of sparks, jolting his organic hand. "Kriff!"

He leaned back in the seat, throat tickling from the grimy air he'd breathed in. What would happen now? Perhaps Kenobi would return. He doubted that. The moment was gone, fizzled away to nothing.

He pulled a sonic screwdriver from an emergency kit under the seat, removed the cover of the control board, and set to tinkering on the control panel. The kit had spare parts, and the damage was mostly superficial. He went to work, replacing two wires, re-aligning more delicate components. It was short work, and soon he placed the cover back over. He shifted it slightly to help it fall into place, but it wasn't falling correctly. A frown heralded the return of his thunderous feelings, and he searched around the edge to discover what was hindering the cover. There, a wire slipping out under the cover. He pried the cover up and nudged the wire only to receive a strong shock.

He yelped. The cover awkwardly clanged down while he flicked his numb left hand, numb to the elbow, cussing statements that would have C-3PO stuttering. He slapped his hand on his leg, tingling exploding painfully through the limb. He rubbed his fingers some more, until finally his sense of touch came back, he could feel the grooves and calluses of his skin. He relaxed, heartbeat thumping down to a steady beat, and turned his attention back to the board.

Carefully, he lifted it back up to view the errant wire. Holding the cover up with his left hand, he used his gloved right hand to gingerly reconnect the wire to its socket. That accomplished, he gently lowered the cover, which now fit snugly, and secured it in place. He held the sonic screwdriver loosely in his hand, lost in contemplating it and his hands, the mechanical and the organic. An idle thought meandered through his mind of what should he tell the Emperor, the other eager party of his transformation, but it didn't seem important at the moment.

Then, realization seeped in. He still had his hand.

He put down the tool, fascinated by his hand, then glancing to his legs and feet. They were still there, he could feel them. His limbs, his lungs, his hair-the surprise had him laughing and numb all at once as he patted himself down, curious to it all being there. He had been one hour away from life in a suit, and here he sat, as physically whole as usual. Maybe Kenobi would come back tomorrow, or the day after, or in ten standard years, and his vision would play out, loose limbs splayed on the ground, but he still had them today.

He slipped off his glove and compared his two hands. The right was spindly, dark metal acting as bones and sinews, a useful replacement of what he had lost. Carefully, he slid his left fingers up his right sleeve, feeling the seam of metal and skin. With three new limbs like this he had planned to take over the galaxy, vision tinted red and breath forced through a tube. He had depended on that physical transformation to give him power, a mask behind which he could face the galaxy, a way to defy the Force and let it and everyone know that he could not be hurt anymore. More machine than man. He had sought this moment of loss and change to define himself, crystallize him into the monster he thought himself to be.

He slid his left hand back down, brought it before his face and watched the play of skin over muscle, bone, and sinew, before reaching it up to touch his hair. It trembled. A soft plip of moisture landed on the console, then another. Anakin Skywalker wept.


End file.
